


Vines of Deceit

by Manifest_Destiny



Series: Land of Opportunity [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Romance, Pokephilia, Unova Region, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 94,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manifest_Destiny/pseuds/Manifest_Destiny
Summary: “Truth happens to an idea. It becomes true, is made true by events.”- William JamesWhat is familiar isn't always the same. What you see isn't always what is there. What you hear isn't always what is said. When you see the world for how it really is, will you accept it?Will it accept you?





	1. The Lie

—————

Nuvema Town is a settlement that is open to the sea to the south and capped by woodlands to the north. The residential area sat closer to the coast with the population growing denser the further inland you might travel. An uncharacteristically warm winter made for a spring that felt more like late summer. With the sun barely cresting the horizon, the temperature was already nearing the seventies. The smell of cut grass and sea salt wafted throughout the town. The morning light glistened on the water of the beach and reflected onto the few houses close to the water’s edge.

Near the southern edge of town, not far from the shoreline, two young people walked the empty neighborhood streets. The first was a young man in his late teens. His short black hair was pushed to the sides of his face, his bangs falling beside the rims of his glasses. His outfit of black jeans, a thin blue jacket over a simple white t-shirt with a red ‘Y’ design almost seemed too much considering the quickly warming weather.

The second was a girl, who was the same age as the boy. She had most of her blond hair curled around her head, while the rest was beneath her large green beret. Her attire was largely plain, the most outstanding feature being her sunny, orange blouse. She had to walk quickly to keep up with her companion, her white skirt being too long to allow for her stride to match his.

“Didn’t you try calling him, Bianca?” Cheren asked the girl next to him.

“I did, but his XTransceiver was off, and I didn’t want to wake up his parents if they were still sleeping…” she said, shifting the strap of her purse which she carried over her shoulder.

“Oh come on, we’ve been friends for years, I think Tristan’s parents know who we are by now. Besides, they know we’re supposed to meet with Professor Juniper this morning,” Cheren looked at the clock on his XTransceiver, “They should be helping him get ready by now.”

“I know, but…”

“It’s fine. I’m sure someone over there is awake by now.”

“What do you think is keeping Tristan from calling us? Do you think the professor called him too?” asked Bianca.

“We’ll see when we get there.” Cheren said. “She might’ve only called his XTransceiver like we did.” He walked a few more paces—piecing together a new thought—before continuing. “Bianca, is it me or did the professor sound a bit worried when she called you?”

“Yeah, she called me asking if I had heard from Tristan yet. She must’ve tried calling him first.”

“I wonder why…?” Cheren drifted back into thought.

The two walked the rest of the way in silence. After a few more minutes they arrived at their friend’s house. As they strode along the walkway a flock of Pidove flew away, startled at their approach. Cheren looked into the house and saw a middle aged woman—who he recognized as his friend’s mother—moving about the house in a hurry. He moved to knock on the door, but was surprised when it opened before his knuckles could rap on the wood.

“We saw you coming a block away. Come on in you two,” a man with graying hair answered the door with a kind voice. “Tristan’s still in his room, but he’s,” he turned his head and threw his voice behind him, “ _almost ready, isn_ _’t he?_ ”

“ _Yes_ dad! Cheren, Bianca, come on back,” Tristan called, “I’m _almost_ ready!”

The two thanked Tristan's father, and made their way through the house to their friend’s room. As they walked in, Bianca covered her eyes at the sight of a shirtless Tristan trying to sort through a pile of laundry. “Tristan!”

“Oh hush, Bianca,” the boy said. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Shut up and put some clothes on!” Bianca revealed her blushing face, but averted her eyes elsewhere. “Your window’s open too!”

“So? I’ve got pants on.”

“ _This_ _time_ …” Cheren added. “Anyway, where have you been? We’ve all tried calling you, you know. Even Professor Juniper’s been calling all over trying to get ahold of you.”

“I know, she called the house this morning.” Tristan found a black t-shirt and slipped it on, messing up his arguably always-messy hair. He tried to comb it back into place with his fingers as best he could. “She said she’s got something to tell all of us once we’re there.”

“Well we’re waiting on you, you know.” The sound of Cheren’s foot tapping the hard wood floor filled the room between retorts. “How’d you oversleep this time?”

“I _usually_ have an alarm on my XTransceiver, buuuut,” he held up the device, “the battery always seems to die in the middle of the night when I forget to charge it. Funny how that happens, huh?”

“Funny,” Cheren said flatly. “Put that on the charger and let’s go already!”

“Can do.” He reached under his bed and grabbed his shoes, quickly pulling them on. As he followed Bianca and Cheren out, he picked up his light, gray jacket and put it on, leaving it unzipped. The group headed to the front door, but Tristan deviated, “Be right back!” He went into the living room where his mom was packing his travel bag. “Mom, I said _I_ could pack when I got back.”

“Oh, don’t worry about this. Just me trying to keep myself busy before you head out later today.” Her son thanked her with a hug. “You heading to Aurea’s lab now?” she asked.

“Yeah, can’t put it off forever. Not that I want to.”

“Well, make sure to listen to everything she tells you. And say ‘Hi’ to her for me.”

“You talked to her twenty minutes ago…”

“She’ll understand. Just go and bring back a Pokémon, alright?”

“That’s the plan.”

—————

The walk to the professor’s lab on the other side of the town didn’t take long; at least it seemed that way to the group. They were on their way to pick up their Starter Pokémon, and they had been looking forward to this day with much anticipation.

“How far do you think we’ll get today?” Bianca asked as they walked.

“Unless we hit any major issues,” Cheren answered her, “I’d like to make it to Accumula Town without too many delays. Route 1 shouldn’t be much trouble, but you never know.”

“We’ll be fine,” Tristan said. “With the three of us, I bet we’ll get there before sundown.”

The three friends continued their banter as they neared their destination. Tristan led the group as he opened the door to the research lab. “We’re here Professor!”

“Well hello you three,” Aurea Juniper said as they walked into her lab. A tall woman with light brown hair, Professor Juniper walked up to the teenagers and smiled. “I see you managed to meet up with Tristan.”

“Sorry we’re late,” Cheren said, “but we all agreed we wanted to come here together.”

“Oh that’s not a problem. It’s good to see friends sticking together.”

“Oh yeah, Professor,” Tristan said, “my mom says ‘Hi’.”

“She always does,” she gave a small chuckle. Professor Juniper cleared her throat and walked over to Tristan, “Dear, would you mind coming with me? I have some… things I want to discuss with you.”

“‘Things’?” he asked. “Is it that personal?”

“Professor,” Cheren said, “You sounded worried over the phone earlier this morning. Is something the matter?”

“Astute as ever, Cheren. But… I’m afraid there’s been…” She had a sad look on her face, “A _major_ setback in our plans.”

“S-Setback? Like what?” Bianca asked.

“Professor, if there’s some bad news, I think we should all hear it.” Tristan said.

Aurea sighed, “Alright. Well, I may as well come out with it then.” She looked to Tristan, “I’m sorry dear, but I’m afraid I don’t have a Pokémon for you.”

Apart from the sound of Bianca’s short gasp, the Juniper laboratory went completely silent for a few moments. Tristan Blake stood dumbstruck, confusion and a bit of anger rushing through his head.

“Wh-What? But we agreed on this _months_ ago! What happened? Why can’t we have our Pokémon now? We've planned—”

“No, Tristan,” she said, putting a hand on his shaking shoulder, “Bianca’s Tepig and Cheren’s Oshawott are ready for them to take today, but I’m afraid I don’t have a Snivy for you right now.”

“What!? Why do—What happened to my Snivy?” He tried not to yell; he wasn’t angry at the professor, but he was losing his composure.

“No need to raise your voice Tristan,” came a voice from his right. It was Aurea’s father, Cedric. He had just come into the laboratory, and was holding a few boxes. “I think I can answer all of your questions, since I handle the shipment for the Starter Pokémon here.”

“So?! What happened? Why is my Pokémon not ready?”

“Well, if you’ll mind my bluntness, there seems to be a shortage of fertile female Grass type breeder Pokémon this year. The result being that a lot of Grass type Pokémon aren’t available to be distributed to regional offices like ours. We’re lower on the breeder’s priorities than their usual rich customers. And before you get upset, we’re not the only region affected either; one region even had to change their Starter type choices this season because of this.”

“But I don’t want some other type of Pokémon, I’ve always wanted my first Pokémon to be a Snivy!”

“We know, Tristan,” Aurea said. “We’ve managed to get ahold of one of my father’s good friends, and we’re going to get you one, but I’m afraid we’re pretty far back on the list. It’ll be a while before—”

“How long?” Tristan asked, hoping for a small estimate.

“A month,” Cedric said. “Connections can only go so far in this world. It’s the best he could give me, and to be honest, we’d be waiting a lot longer without him.”

“A month…” Tristan repeated. He looked over at his friends. Bianca was almost in tears, and Cheren had a puzzled look on his face. “You said their Pokémon are ready though?”

“That’s right,” Aurea said. “Bianca, here’s your Tepig,” she said, handing her a Poké Ball. “And Cheren, your Oshawott.”

The two didn’t do anything but hold their Poké Balls. They didn’t know what to do, but they both silently agreed that enjoying their Pokémon while Tristan was without his was unfair.

“Wh-What,” Bianca started, wiping some tears away, “What are we going to do, guys? W-We always said we’d go together, as a group… But without Tristan, we can’t just—”

“Yes you can Bianca,” Tristan spoke up, surprising everyone. “You and Cheren should go on without me. I’ll stay back, and catch up when I can.”

“Don’t be stupid, Tristan,” Cheren said. “In a month, we’ll be too far gone. We’re supposed to be friends; how can we enjoy ourselves knowing you’re just going to sit at home, doing nothing?”

“And how can _I_ expect you two to wait around for me, huh?!”

Bianca winced at the yelling, clenching her fists as she cried out, “Stop it you two!”

Tristan hadn’t noticed that his fists were shaking and that his stomach was in a knot. He tried to relax, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to. “I’m sorry… but I mean it. You two should go on without me. I don’t want to be something holding you back.”

“But…” Bianca started to protest again.

“He has a point, you know,” Cheren said. “I don’t want to split up either Bianca, but Tristan wants us to go because he doesn’t want to be a burden to us. And the more I think about it, the more reasonable a month sounds, really. I doubt we’ll make it to Nacrene City by then, and if we do, we can wait up for him.”

“Yeah,” Tristan cut in, “I’d be fine with you two taking your time, but don’t wait for me here.” He smiled, but it was a fake smile, “You two should take this month and use it to get as far as you can. Unless you want me to speed right on by and pass you up!”

Bianca laughed, lightening the tension in the room, “Well… You’re sure then, Tristan?”

“Yes. You two should enjoy your Pokémon. I’ve waited all this time,” he paused, gaining one last look of worry from his blond friend, “one more month won’t be that bad.”

“And it’s not like you’ll be ‘completely’ helpless,” Aurea said. She took one of the boxes from her father and opened it. She handed out three Pokédexes. “I hope these make up for all this trouble. These are the newest models—”

“And,” Cedric Juniper added, “I’ve gone ahead and upgraded them to international mode for you three. They say mass outbreaks and swarms of non-local Pokémon are happening across the world a lot more frequently nowadays, some even becoming permanent residents. Now you won’t get caught without the proper know-how.” He also handed each of the trio five unused, plain Poké Balls.

Tristan looked at his new Pokédex, trying hard to keep his hands from shaking, “Thanks Professors. These are… Wow…”

“And Tristan?” Aurea asked. “Call me if you need anything. My door’s always open, alright?”

Tristan could hear in her voice that she was sincere and that she cared for him, but more than anything he wanted to get out of the place that just brought down everything he had been hoping for in an instant. “I will, Professor.” He turned and thanked Cedric for his help, and the three exited the laboratory.

—————

“So what did your parents have to say, Tristan?” Cheren asked as they walked to the edge of Nuvema Town. He and Bianca had their things and were ready to leave town that evening. Tristan wanted to at least see his friends off.

“They agreed with my pushing you two to go on.”

“I would’ve waited with you, Tristan,” Bianca said. “I really wouldn’t have minded, but you’re right. I’ll need all the time I can get to know my little Chao here.”

Hearing that she’d already given her Pokémon a name stung Tristan, but he let it pass. “Hey, how’d your father take you leaving, Bianca? I thought he was always against you going on a journey.”

“Uh…” she paused.

“Bianca?” Cheren spoke up. “Your father _did_ say you could go, right?”

“H-He finally warmed up to the idea. Yeah, my mom and I eventually got through to him.”

“That’s good,” Tristan said.

The group found themselves at the edge of their hometown. Unova’s Route 1 stood before them; a warm breeze blew through the fields of grass and took a few leaves into the air, swirling them about in calming patterns. It did little to ease Tristan’s currently-masked mood.

“I always wanted us to take our first steps on Route 1 together…” Bianca said dejectedly.

“Don’t worry,” Cheren said. “It’s not when the journey starts, it’s what happens on it that matters. Tristan’s going to catch up to us in no time. You’ll see.”

Tristan cut in, “Bianca, I promise I’ll be fine until I’m able to go out on my own. We’ve known each other for years. You know I’m not one to just sit around and mope.”

She perked up at that, and turned to give Tristan a hug goodbye. Cheren just gave him a knowing nod, and Tristan waved his two friends off as they started toward Accumula town.

—————

Three days after Cheren and Bianca had left Nuvema town, Tristan found himself not being able to keep his promise to his friends. He had done little else in the past few days other than lay on his bed and occasionally try to familiarize with the modes of his Pokédex.

“Tristan!”

He didn’t respond. He really didn’t want to. It seemed like a pointless action to him; his parents knew where he was.

“Tristan! We’re leaving now, you coming?”

Of course not. Why would he go with them? He was in no mood to do much of anything but lay there and stare out his window—his newly-mastered skill.

“Tristan!” his mother was in his room now. He was obligated to answer if he didn’t want to seem disrespectful.

He turned over on his bed, “Yeah, mom?”

“Your father and I are going out for dinner. Do you want to come with us?”

“No thank you.” He laid back on his stomach and folded his arms on the window sill, resting his chin on them.

She came over and sat on the bed beside him and rubbed his back, “Tristan, you’ve barely eaten anything since Saturday; aren’t you hungry?”

“I haven’t done anything since Saturday to make me hungry. You two go ahead, I’ll cook something here if I need anything.”

“Sweetie, you’ve got to cheer up. This was your choice, wasn’t it?”

“Me sitting here alone and _not_ traveling with my friends and my own Pokémon? _No!_ ” He sat up on the bed after realizing he had yelled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell… and I’m not angry at Cheren or Bianca, I _did_ want them to go on, but I still hate this situation.”

“Hey, you never know, it could all work out better than you think.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “You’ll just have to wait and see. Sometimes, things happen for a reason. You just have to find out why for yourself.”

Despite himself, Tristan warmed up a bit at his mother’s words. “Thanks mom.”

He hugged her and wished her a good time. When she left the room, he returned to looking out his window. Hours passed after he heard his parents’ car pull out of their driveway. He watched the long grass move about in the wind while light still hung in the sky, his eyes following the wind’s path as it tugged at each blade of grass like a green tide washing from one end of his yard to another.

_At least I_ _’ve got_ mowing lawns _to look forward to_ _… Awesome… I hope it rains tomorrow…_

When it was too dark to watch the grass, he turned over and looked up at the stars. The more he focused his eyes, the more they seemed to shift and change. Some faded as he focused on them, while others around them became brighter. This continued until he put his forehead in his arms, and tried falling asleep.

_Three days_ _…_

Tap.

_I wonder how far they_ _’ve gotten? Striaton? Or would they wait for me there?_

Tap.

_They haven_ _’t called on the XTransceiver yet… they said they would… I wonder if something happened…_

TapTap.

_I hope Bianca's getting along alright._

TapTapTap.

_Cheren_ _’ll take care of her. I’m sure she’ll be–_

Smack.

“What is–?!”

He regretted raising his voice the second he saw what had been tapping his head. Backed against the far corner of his window sill—scared and looking like it might run away—was a Snivy, looking wearily at him with its big red eyes. Impossibly unlikely yet entirely real. Tristan froze in silence for a moment, afraid any movement might ruin this amazing opportunity that had found him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” Tristan sat up on his bed and sat back a bit from the window. He shakily extended a cautious hand to the Snivy, “Hi there. My name’s Tristan.”

The Snivy opened its mouth in response, but no sound came out. It stared back into Tristan's eyes for a moment. The Snivy looked out the window, then to Tristan's outstretched hand. To his surprise, the Snivy crawled into his hand and up his arm. The little grass snake smiled at him, evidently finding the human trustworthy.

“You’re a friendly little— Oh, wait.” Keeping his left arm steady, he reached behind him with his right to pick up his Pokédex. The top screen folded out and up, and the camera focused in on the creature on his arm:

[No. 495. Snivy: Grass Snake Pokémon.]

[Type: Grass.]

[Gender: ♀]

“Okay then, you’re a girl.” The Snivy rolled her eyes, giving him a little “Of course I am” kind of expression, which brought Tristan to laugh in earnest for the first time in days. “What’re you doing here, though?” Tristan’s mind raced with possibilities on the origins of the little snake.

The Snivy jumped off his arm and pointed to the wooded area that bordered the right side of his backyard. She tried her best to mime with her hands how she came to show herself, and Tristan tried his best to interpret. When she pointed to herself, she only raised one finger. She traced a rough path from the trees to his yard, and pointed at the ground, holding up many fingers.

_She_ _’s trying sign language. This little one’s pretty smart. But now I’ve got to_ learn _sign language. Let_ _’s see…_

“So, you’re alone then?” Tristan asked. The Snivy nodded. “But why’d you come to me?” She tapped her chest twice with one hand, and raised a finger again. She patted Tristan's hand twice and did the same. Tristan got the meaning, “Because I was alone? You’ve been watching me then?” She nodded. “That’s…” he smiled, “That’s very kind of you.”

Snivy smiled back at him, trying to respond vocally, but stopping herself.

“Wait, Snivy, you can’t talk? At all?”

She shook her head, letting out another mute call. She seemed to look a bit embarrassed.

“Aww, that’s alright,” he patted her head lightly, like she did him. “I don’t mind. I couldn’t understand you if you could anyway.” He smiled, and saw her cheer up. _Now_ I’m _cheering someone up. Who_ _’d have thought?_ “Snivy, does this mean that—I mean, I don’t want to rush things—but do you want to stay with me and be my Pokémon?”

Snivy nodded her head and looked up at him with hopeful eyes. Tristan saw her wag her tail a bit, and thought it strange, but forgot that little oddity quickly. He could hardly believe it; a wild Snivy quite literally fell into his lap, one that felt the same loneliness as he did—as far as he could understand.

“Well, what else is there to say but, ‘Welcome aboard, Snivy’!” Tristan brought up his other hand and gently stroked Snivy’s back. She smiled happily and returned the gesture by crawling up to his shoulder and rubbing his face.

“How about a name, Snivy?” he asked. He made sure to keep his balance with her on his shoulder as he stood up, “Would you like one?”

She nodded.

“Alright,” he thought for a moment. “How about Jarani?”

She almost grimaced at the name.

“Okay… strike that one…” he started walking to his kitchen, suddenly feeling the hunger pangs of nearly three days without food. “Nomoki?”

She shook her head again, this time sticking her little tongue out at him. She hopped off his arm and sat on the counter while Tristan began reheating some leftovers in the microwave. All the while it cooked, she waited. It seemed to her like he was thinking. The timer beeped, and he took his meal out of the microwave. He offered a bit of it to her, which she almost jumped at, but he pulled it back. She looked up at him, confused.

“How about… Draya?”

The sound of the name seemed to well up a sense of… pride inside her. She eagerly nodded, liking the sound of the name.

“Draya it is then,” he gave her bits of his meal as he ate. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Tomorrow is when we leave here Draya. Is that alright?”

She smiled back at him, and nodded silently to her trainer.

—————

To be continued…

—————


	2. A Reason to Run

—————

The King waited, and has been waiting, for a long time. Sitting on his throne, he idly reflected on the events to come.

_The white flame that scorches the sky. The black lightning bolt that scars the land_ _… The Hero of Truth and the Hero of Ideals that join them in the never-ending cycle of history…_

The King stood, having grown tired of waiting. Somewhere out in the world, he knew, his fate awaited him.

“The white Dragon of Truth… It’s time we became friends.”

—————

[To: Cheren; Bianca]

[Wait up, you two. I’m on my way.]

[-Tristan]

He set his arm back down on the table, shifting some of his weight on it as he leaned forward over his meal. Tristan sat at the kitchen table idly picking at the second set of leftovers he had heated up. His hunger had just about diminished from the three day span of ignoring his appetite. He found it amusing that his distraught mood had been completely turned around with just one chance encounter. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling at the thought that he wouldn’t be held up or left behind anymore.

Judging by how late it was, Tristan didn’t expect the two to reply immediately. He half expected them to call—if they were awake. He contemplated calling them himself; imagining Bianca's excited voice and Cheren's condescending tone questioning why he was able to set out so early. The other half urged him to keep the specifics a surprise, if only for a little bit. He chuckled to himself at the thought of him catching up to them by surprise.

Tap. Tap.

The taps came from his left, where Draya was currently lying beside his left arm. She had watched intently as her new human friend tapped the square, gray device on his arm. Its screen illuminated and responded to her new trainer’s touch, which fascinated the Snivy; she had never seen one of the devices up close before.

“What’s up, Draya?” Tristan asked.

In a few simple motions, Draya mimicked the actions Tristan had just done, pointing to his wrist.

“This?” he wrapped his arm around her, making sure the screen of his XTransceiver was in clear view. “This is a ‘Cross Transceiver’. They’re devices that we can use to communicate to other people over long distances. Just then, I sent a message to my friends, telling them I’ll be coming to meet them.”

Draya turned around and looked at him, pointing at herself twice.

“Right, ‘we’re coming’ to meet them. But I made sure to keep it vague; I want to see their faces when they see you. You’re my little miracle, you know that?”

She gave him a confused look.

“Well,” he said. “If you hadn’t shown up, I would’ve had to settle for one of the Snivy the Professor hands out, and that would’ve taken longer. I would’ve been stuck here waiting for a whole month while my friends went on ahead of me. Now, I don’t—” Tristan was cut off by the sound of his front door opening.

“Tristan, we’re home!”

“I’m in the kitchen, dad! You two should come in here for a sec.” Tristan stood up, but as he went to pick up Draya she fearfully leapt up to his shoulder, wrapping her tail around his neck for support as she hid behind his head. He could feel her shaking in a sudden expression of fear.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Tristan placed a hand behind her head, trying to calm her down. “It’s alright Draya.” He looked over to the doorway in time to see his mother and father walk in.

“Good, you’re eating,” his mother said, pointing to his dishes on the table. “Are you feeling… better?” Tristan could see his mother’s eyes widen once they came across the cowering grass snake around his neck staring right back at her. “Tristan! You—!” She stopped her excited approach when her son held out a hand and backed up a few steps. His father simply held a surprised expression matching his wife’s.

“Hold on Mom, I think she’s scared.” He shifted his attention to Draya and turned his back to his parents. “Hey, what’s the matter, Draya?”

The scared Snivy shook her head. Draya glanced over Tristan's shoulder at the sound of footsteps.

“Tristan?” his mother asked again, this time concern outweighing excitement. “Where did you—?”

Draya let out a tiny, scared squeak as she pulled herself down into Tristan's arms, hiding again from these strange new humans.

“Whoa, it’s alright Draya…” Tristan stroked her back, giving her various words of comfort. “They’re not going to hurt you, I promise. They’re my parents.” He slowly turned around, facing the open room again. Draya gripped his arm tightly as he did, her eyes darting back and forth between the two strangers.

Tristan tried extending the arm his Snivy was currently clinging to toward his mother, but she retook her position behind his head, wrapping her tail around his neck again. This time however, she allowed herself to be seen a bit more clearly, and her shaking had died down.

“Tristan? Care to explain?” his father asked.

“Alright, I think she’s fine now. Dad, mom, this is Draya.” He gently coaxed the Snivy off his neck and onto his arm, holding her close to his chest. “She’s a wild—or _was_ a wild Snivy until about an hour ago. She was alone, and I guess saw how miserable I was and came to me. I still don’t know how she came to find me, but she’s agreed to be my Pokémon.”

“This all happened while we were out?” his spoke with disbelief. “How’d _you_ find her?”

“I had my window open, and she just came up to me,” Tristan explained.

“She’s so cute!” Tristan’s mother moved in to get a closer look, but stopped when she noticed her son’s Pokémon clearly preferred to keep her distance. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? We’re not going to hurt you.” She held out a hand towards the apprehensive Pokémon. “Come say hello.”

“Yeah, Draya. Go on.”

She looked up at the young man holding her and shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” Tristan asked. “You trust me, don’t you?”

She paused for a moment, but nodded.

“Then you can trust my family,” he said. Before she could object—or cling to his arm in protest—he quickly held her out in his hands towards his mother. Initially, she tried to escape his grasp, but the way he held her made that impossible. She eventually stopped resisting, and allowed herself to be handed off to the woman who had the same eyes as Tristan.

“There you are, sweetheart…” she said. Tristan’s mother cradled the Snivy in her arms, gently rocking her back and forth. “See, all better.”

Draya nervously looked back to Tristan for anything reassuring, but he only smiled and nodded. Soon, she managed to calm herself down from her ordeal. She looked up at the woman, noticing the soft expression in her gray eyes. Draya noticed her scent was very much like Tristan’s, yet unique in its own way. Draya found herself being soothed by her touch, slowly warming up to another human she allowed herself to know.

In the minutes following, she soon gave in to a third after a few quick words of encouragement. Draya took to meeting Tristan’s father a little bit easier. She could see a lot of Tristan in how this man acted; very sure in his movements, and held a confident air about him. As she made the leap from his shoulder back into Tristan's arms, she found herself starting to think differently of humans.

_Maybe there are a few good ones_ , Draya thought.

“She’s a quiet one, isn’t she?” Tristan’s father remarked.

“Actually, I don’t think she _can_ talk.” Tristan rubbed Draya’s head comfortingly, anticipating the downtrodden look she gave him. “But I don’t care. She’s really smart. She uses a pretty crude system of sign language that I’ve—”

“Diane! Jeff! Open up!” A deep, booming voice erupted from the direction of the front door, followed by several heavy knocks. “Jefferson Blake, I know you’re home! I need your help!”

The family all gravitated to the front of the house, walking quickly to the room adjacent to the kitchen. Tristan hung back behind his parents, holding Draya close to his chest. Much more at ease with the situation, Draya moved onto his shoulder to guarantee a good view of what was going on.

Tristan knew the voice well. Recognizing the angered tones of that man is precisely why he stayed behind his parents, staying just inside the dining room.

It was the voice of Bianca’s father.

The large, balding, heavyset man nearly fell through the door as Tristan’s father opened it. “Oh, thank the Alpha. I need your help. My little girl’s missing! My Bianca! I think she must’ve—” he looked past Jeff and Diane and locked eyes Tristan, then to Draya sitting on his shoulder. “You!”

He barged past the two adults and took Tristan by arm, pulling him into the room. Bianca’s father ignored the shocked and angry words from the boy’s parents and pushed Tristan against the wall forcefully, Draya quickly jumping down to the floor. She backed into a corner, but held an angry glare at the large and loud man.

“You… You tell me where my little girl is now, or so help me, I’ll—”

“ _Richard_!” Jeff moved in, wrenching his son from the large man’s grip. “Don’t you _ever_ threaten my son!”

“Well _my_ _daughter_ is missing, and your little brat knows something, I know it!” He shook off the hold Tristan's father had on him, and turned back to Tristan. “Go on, spill it! You’ve got your little Pokémon finally, but where’s my daughter?”

“What are you talking about?!” Tristan matched his loud voice. “You already know, don’t you? She and Cheren left three days ago—”

“ _Where_?! _Where did she go_?!”

“I don’t know exactly, alright? Didn’t you let her go?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Tristan already knew the answer. _Oh no_ _… Bianca you didn’t…_

“What do you mean, ‘let her’? You mean she left on that asinine ‘training’ journey of hers?!”

“Of course!” Tristan bent down and picked up Draya, wanting to calm her down. “Three days ago, we went to Professor Juniper’s lab to pick up our starting Pokémon. They didn’t have mine, so—”

“So what’s _that_ then?” he said, pointing at the bipedal snake in hiding in the corner of the room. Draya stuck out her small forked tongue in defiance.

“ _She_ _’s_ my Snivy, and she didn’t come from the Professor’s lab—if you’d let me finish.” Tristan picked Draya back up off the floor and held her in his arms. “I would have had to wait a whole month before I got one of theirs. But Cheren and Bianca got their Pokémon, and left town ahead of me _three days ago_. She told us you gave her permission so we didn’t think anything of it.”

“I told her that she was _not_ allowed to leave my house on some fairytale little adventure! She’s a delicate little girl, too naive to face the world.”

“Ha!” Tristan laughed in the man’s face. “You don’t know your own daughter. Bianca’s a dreamer, always has been. The only person who’s naive here is you! What did she tell you to get out of the house, huh? Where’d you think she was these past three days after she had come home with her own Pokémon? And what kind of father are you to _wait three days_ before starting to ask questions?”

“Tristan, that’s enough—” his mother tried stopping him from continuing.

“No, it isn’t! He’s always held Bianca back from what she’s wanted to do with her life. You’ve both seen it, I know you have!”

“That aside, she’s still Richard’s daughter,” his mother said.

“I don’t care!” turned back to Bianca's father, whose face was now purple with rage. “You’re not getting any hints from me. She’s off living her life, not the life _you_ want her to live!”

“Fine, you little punk!” Richard turned around and walked toward the door. “I’ll find her myself!” Everyone flinched as Bianca’s father slammed the door shut behind him.

Without thinking Tristan ran into his room, carrying Draya in tow. He set his Snivy down on his bed and quickly set out to gathering the things he had begun to pack three days prior. Luckily, he never had the courage to unpack his gear after the crushing disappointment, so it largely went untouched. As he was looking for something under his bed, his parents came into the room.

“Tristan! What was wrong with you? Saying those kinds of things to Bianca’s father like that.” Tristan never did like hearing his father yell at him, but he would have to power through it.

“No offense to you dad, I know he’s been your friend for years, but the man’s an asshole and a bad father.”

“Tristan!” his mother exclaimed.

“I’m sorry mom, but he is. You saw him, and I’ve heard nothing nice about him from Bianca.” He stood up, throwing his large travel backpack onto his bed, stuffing a few things in the pockets. He walked over to his desk, grabbing his Pokédex, and putting on his trainer’s belt for the first time. Five empty spheres—and one already set to be occupied by Draya, when he had the chance—were set into the various holsters.

“And what do you think you’re doing? You’re not leaving _now_!” his father said. “It’s almost midnight!”

“I’m going, and I’m catching up to Bianca before he does. If I don’t, he’ll just end up dragging her back home with all the ‘worried parent’ guilt trips in the world. She doesn’t deserve that.” He held out his arm, and Draya scampered up it, taking her spot on his shoulder and wrapping her tail around his neck. She tapped the side of his face, trying to get his attention.

“We’re headed out now, Draya. I want to make sure he doesn’t get to Bianca before we do. I don’t want him ruining her chance at becoming a trainer this early.”

She nodded her head, standing upright on his shoulder in a ‘let’s get going’ pose, pointing out his door.

He laughed, “That’s the spirit!” Tristan made a few more passes around his room, making sure he had everything he needed for the trip.

“Tristan!”

His attention snapped back to his father.

“You can’t go running after your friends this late at night! At least wait until morning.”

“Dad, you saw how violently he acted towards _me_. Imagine what he’ll do if he catches up with her? You think _he_ _’s_ going to wait until morning to go after her? No! If I can’t stop him from trying to drag her back, I can at least help Bianca when he comes around.”

“Tristan I’m telling you as your father to _let them handle this_!” Jefferson blocked the doorway as his son tried to walk out on him. “I know Bianca is your friend, but she’s Richard’s daughter first and she disobeyed him!”

“Then I’m going to have to disobey my father too then!” Tristan yelled. He turned to his open window, ready to vault over the windowsill and out into the night.

“Tristan, wait!”

The voice of his mother stopped him in his tracks.

“Dear,” she said to her husband, “he’s got every right to leave if he wants to protect his friend. Richard means well, but he’s suffocating that poor girl. You know that we wouldn’t have met if we both listened to our parents when we were younger.”

He sighed, “I know that, but this is a family matter.”

“And I consider my friends as part of my family! We grew up together! ” Tristan stood up tall, letting his gear fall onto the floor. Draya held an impressed expression as she watched on the bed behind him. “Even though he’s an ass, Bianca’s father does what he does because he thinks he’s protecting her. I’m doing the same thing! I’ve loved Bianca like a sister for a long time, and I’m tired of just staying behind while the people I care about move on. I’m going to make sure she lives her life, not the one her father _thinks_ she should.”

“But Tristan,” Diane said. “You’ve got to look at it from _our_ perspective for a moment. We see our only son, leaving town to head out into the wild in the dead of night, foolhardy and unprepared. Did you even remember to pack food for yourself, or even your Pokémon?”

“I… Dammit…” he looked down, defeated.

“See?” she moved closer, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Please, have this one last night to prepare. If you won’t wait to help yourself, do it for your father and I. We want you to be safe, just like you want Bianca to be.”

“But what about—?”

“Don’t worry about Richard,” his father interjected. “I’ve known him for over twenty years, and if there’s one word to describe him, it isn’t ‘fast’.” He ended with a laugh, Tristan getting what he meant a second later and joining in.

“If you want to help Bianca now,” Diane joined back in, “send her a message explaining the situation, and you can set out first thing tomorrow. I’ll get up early with you and make sure you’re ready, okay?”

Tristan dropped his shoulders and sighed. “Alright… I get it…” He leaned forward and hugged his mother. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tristan apologized to the two of them for his behavior and hasty actions and bade his parents a good night. Realizing that they weren’t about to leave anytime soon, Draya made herself comfortable and laid down on the bed. Tristan spent the last few minutes before getting ready to sleep by _thoroughly_ checking his travel backpack, adding things he had carelessly overlooked. It took only a few more minutes until he was satisfied with the thought that—unless he had forgotten anything this time—he was sure to be ready in the morning.

As he changed into some lighter clothes for the night, he remembered the entirely empty stash of Poké Balls on his belt. “Hey, Draya. There’s something— Oh, of course…” Draya was already fast asleep. “Well, one more thing to do in the morning.” He gently picked up Draya’s sleeping form and carefully got into bed, setting her back down without waking her up. Before falling asleep, he took off his XTransceiver, turned it on, and started composing his message to his friends.

—————

[“Wait– What?! Why?”] The voice of Aurea Juniper filled the room from the tiny speaker in Tristan’s XTransceiver. He had called her just minutes after taking the last shower he’d take in his home for a long time.

[“Tristan what happened? Why do you need us to cancel the order for your Snivy?”] Her expression exuded worry. In the background of tiny video feed, Tristan could see her father turn mid-stride and come within range of the microphone to his daughter’s confusion as he joined the conversation.

“Because,” he turned the camera to focus on Draya eating her breakfast, “I got my own Snivy, Professor. ‘Draya’ sorta found me last night, and you know how things tend to lead to other things…”

[“Now hold on,”] Cedric forced himself on-camera. [“You say a _wild_ Snivy just showed up, _in_ this town? Snivy aren’t even _remotely_ a native species for the area!”]

He shifted the camera back to himself, “I know, right? I really appreciate the favor, Professor, but I really don’t need it now.”

Aurea came back into frame, [“Tristan, if you don’t mind, could you stop by my lab today? I’d really like to take a look—”]

“Sorry,” Tristan cut her off. “I’m in a rush to leave town. I really need to catch up with Cheren and Bianca. I promise I’ll let you have a look at her when I get the chance though.”

[“I really think you should come down, Tristan. Just a few minutes on your way out of town?”]

“Well,” he looked over to his Snivy, who had been listening during these past few exchanges. Draya just nodded, pointing to the device strapped to his wrist. “Alright. Meet me by the road to Route 1 in an hour, if that’s alright.”

[“Sounds good. Thank you, Tristan. And I’m happy that you’ve stumbled upon such an unlikely way of beating your stroke of bad luck.”] She waved to Tristan as she ended the call on her end.

“Yeah…” said Tristan. His mind drifted off to thoughts of the three days of misery he had to endure before his solution found its way to him. He was snapped out of his daze as Draya made her way up onto his shoulder. She gave him a cherry smile and patted his cheek.

“Thanks, Draya.” Tristan remembered the reason he was in a hurry. “Let’s see; What are we forgetting…?”

Tristan was relieved of much of the packing work early on that morning. His mother had insisted on making sure he was extra prepared for such a journey—Diane had the firsthand experience necessary after all. The remainder of the time was spent by Tristan trying to coax Draya to let her Poké Ball capture her. Time after time, she would reject the sphere’s capture mechanism, breaking free from its hold.

The two took a short break, and Tristan talked her through the process, hoping that it would help her be more at ease. She eventually calmed down, and on the umpteenth attempt, the capture was complete. Draya didn’t stay in her capsule long, however. She quickly learned how to release herself at will—even showing off to Tristan how quickly she could, repeating the feat in rapid succession in a blinding display of light.

“Okay, so keeping you in your ball _isn_ _’t_ going to happen then?”

Draya just scooped the ball into her large, leafy tail and tossed it into the air. As it fell down, she smacked the Poké Ball toward Tristan, laughing as he caught the device before it nearly hit his face.

“Oh, so you can laugh, but can’t talk, huh?”

Draya snickered once more before hopping down off the bed, and ran out of his room.

“Whatever.”

—————

Tristan Blake had envisioned the day he would leave home many times, but nothing could prepare him for the actual thing. He stood, pressed against his front door, holding his crying mother in a loving embrace. It looked like he was just about to make it through the departure without any heartfelt goodbyes, but somehow he couldn’t imagine it any other way. He returned the love his mother gave him, squeezing her tight once more before separating. Draya looked on while sitting on his luggage.

His father came up to shake his hand, and wished him luck. “Son, you’ve always been ambitious, but you also get ahead of yourself. Don’t overestimate your limits, but don’t underestimate your will to achieve. Never let your dream falter, no matter what it is.” He pulled his son into a hug as well. “And have some fun too.”

“I will, I promise,” he said. “Thanks mom, thanks dad. Thanks for all of your help.” He bent down to his gear, shouldered his backpack, donned his gray cap, and let Draya sit upon his shoulder. “I’m off, and just four days late!”

“Take care, Tristan.”

“And make sure Bianca gets through this situation okay,” his mother said.

“Don’t worry,” Tristan said as he opened the door. “Even if I get there late, Cheren is with her. He’ll definitely protect her if I can’t.”

Tristan walked out of his front door, ready to start his journey at last, but not before his mother followed after him as he was halfway down the path that lead to his house, “Tell Aurea I said—”

“Yeah, ‘Hi’, like always.”

“No,” she said. “Tell her ‘Thanks’, from me. ‘Thank you for helping my son get a start on his dream.’ Tell her that for me.”

“I will, but you know,” he looked at the Grass Snake Pokémon sitting on his shoulder, “It’s because Draya showed up that I’m even leaving right now.”

“Well,” his mother walked up and pet Draya’s head, “thank you too, Draya. You really saved him from a lot of misery. Now he can go be with his friends. Take care of my son, will you?”

Draya smiled back at Tristan’s mother and nodded. She rubbed her hand affectionately, making a low, cooing noise.

“Oh! She can make a little noise.”

“You’re right!” Tristan laughed. “That was cute, Draya.”

Draya shot him an annoyed look and smacked the opposite side of his face with her tail.

“What’d I say?”

—————

On the outskirts of Nuvema Town, Tristan was recovering from the light jog he had kept up since he had left his house. The sun was just clearing the tree line in the east, the temperature starting to rise as the minutes ticked away into the early morning. Tristan was glad for the cool breeze that blew down from the north, unimpeded so far away from the city. Professor Juniper was waiting for him as he reached the edge of town. Currently, she was in the middle of a few tests to determine the health of the Pokémon that Tristan had come across.

“Simply impeccable! Peak condition, scale color, reflexes… and you’re _sure_ she’s wild?” The younger Juniper was kneeling on the ground, not caring about dirtying her white lab coat as she inspected Tristan’s rare find.

Draya was more amused than put off by the strange lady asking her to do these small, menial tricks and poses. The woman reminded her of Tristan’s mother.

“I mean, she wasn’t registered by another Poké Ball, I know that,” Tristan explained. “I caught her just this morning after some _persuading_ , right Draya?”

His Snivy stuck her tongue out at him, punctuating it with a tiny laugh.

“And you say she’s a mute?”

“As far as I know, yeah. She’s only made tiny little noises, like her laugh. She’s been using a kind of sign language. What do you think?”

“She might’ve been one of our Snivy, but I don’t recognize her.” She stood up, dusting off her coat. “So, I think she could be a wild one, but the sign language suggests she’s at least been around humans before.”

“I don’t know about that,” Tristan said. “She was pretty skittish around me when we first met, and she panicked when my parents met her.”

“Hmm… It’s a mystery. Maybe if you pick up a Psychic type later on, you’ll learn some more about her,” she bent down and picked up Draya. “Well Tristan, she’s perfectly healthy as far as I can tell. You’re set to go. We expect good things from you, Draya. You’ve really surprised us all by showing up, you know that?”

Draya righted herself in the woman’s arms, and tilted her head upwards in an ‘of course’ sort of way. Then she hopped down to the ground, walking over to Tristan's side.

“Thanks Professor, from me, and my mom.” Tristan relayed his mother’s thanks to the professor, and restated his own.

 “No problem, Tristan.” She extended her hand, he took it. “Call me if you need anything, and I’ll be in touch from time to time.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.”

A series of beeps and a vibration from his wrist alerted Tristan to the call coming to his XTransceiver. The face that showed up on the screen was his father’s, [“Hey Tristan, where are you right now?”]

“Just at the start of Route 1. Why? Did I forget anything?”

[“Actually, it looks like my prediction was spot on; Richard’s still behind you, but only just. He stopped by here a few minutes ago. I think he figured he would try you again to get some help, but when we told him you were gone, he stormed off. I’d get a move on.”]

“Gotcha. Thanks dad,” Tristan quickly ended the call. “Sorry Professor, but I gotta run!”

“Wait, ‘Richard’, as in Bianca’s Father? Why is he— Oh… Did she really?”

Tristan nodded.

“Well you get to her before that man does. I’ll call ahead to them if you like,” she offered.

“No need; they know I’m coming, and I sent Bianca a message last night, going over the gist of things.”

“Alright, dear. Good luck.”

“Thanks again, Professor.” Tristan looked down to Draya. “Well Draya, let’s run!”

At her trainer’s word, Draya darted forward into the tall grass, easily out-speeding the heavy footsteps of her trainer pounding the ground behind her.

—————

To be continued…

—————


	3. The King in his Kingdom

—————

“Good! Keep it up Draya, here it comes!”

_This is_ too _fun!_

Draya allowed herself the lapse in concentration as she nimbly leapt over the rodent that charged at her. Its fangs were laughably short; how could it hope to land a hit? She stood her ground as she watched it recover from its fall to the ground. Deciding on a plan of action, she feigned losing interest in the battle, turning away from the small rodent.

Angered at the show of arrogance, the wild Patrat charged at her from behind. It closed in, aiming to strike with its Tackle attack, but it lost sight of its target as the bipedal snake shot into the tall grass. Patrat stumbled and fell to the ground again, but quickly regained its footing, going on the defensive. From time to time it would catch a glimpse of its attacker in the grass, but it would disappear and just as quickly reappear in a completely different part of the field. The Patrat couldn’t keep up with the erratic movement and soon found itself dizzy trying to track the Snivy.

Tristan looked on in awe, genuinely impressed. “That’s enough, Draya. No need to drag it out, finish it!”

_Aww_ _… Fine. This one’s not putting up much of a fight anyway,_ she laughed to herself.

Revealing herself, she charged the Patrat head on, slamming into its chest. The Scout Pokémon tried to maintain consciousness, but its lungs burned from being forcefully emptied of air. The wild Patrat fell to the dirt one last time, defeated.

Tristan congratulated his Pokémon as she walked back to his side, “That was amazing, Draya. I couldn’t even follow you, you were so fast!”

_You know it_ , she thought as she smiled up at him. She followed Tristan as he walked a ways away from the battle ground back to where his backpack was resting. Tristan had chosen a nice, shady tree a little bit off the main road.

Her trainer sat down and leaned his back against the tree. He stretched his arms and neck, groaning as his muscles ached from a lack of nutrients to sustain the large amount of stress they’d been subjected too. “Well, I’m hungry. Time for some food,” he said.

The noontime sun was almost perfectly above their heads, only rarely interrupted by the occasional intermittent cloud or two. Draya took in a deep breath of fresh air, stretching out in the sunlight on the soft grass. Her mind began to wander back earlier in the day. About an hour earlier, Tristan had finally received a call from one of his friends. It was “Cheren”, who seemed to catch Tristan off-guard with his call. During their conversation he insistently questioned Tristan’s sudden departure from Nuvema Town. Not being able to contain his excitement, Tristan revealed Draya to him and explained how he ended up with her.

Cheren's reaction to the whole situation was no more than hesitant skepticism—Draya could tell Tristan was disappointed in the reaction. The call ended with some plain words of encouragement, and that he and “Bianca” would wait for Tristan in “Striaton City”, which the other two had yet to arrive in.

Just seconds after he hung up with Cheren, Tristan’s other friend Bianca called him—evidently wanting to call him in private. Her reaction was far more ecstatic at his early departure, but her main reason for calling was asking about the situation of her father. Tristan explained how her father had come to his house the previous night, and how he was clearly set on bringing her home. Despite looking a bit broken up over the exchange, she thanked Tristan for letting her know, and for caring about her. Before hanging up, Tristan asked her to bring Cheren up to speed—he deliberately didn’t mention it to him, as he did not want to spread information that wasn’t his. Bianca said her goodbyes, and gave him a much warmer wish of luck in getting to Striaton City, hoping the three of them would be able to get their first “badge” together, whatever that was.

Draya looked back to her trainer, who had been occupied with making lunch. Though perhaps “making” was too generous of a word, since he only had prepackaged food on him. After he set out food for Draya, he checked the device he wore on his wrist, called a “XTransceiver”. He said they were making great time, showing her a digital map of how far they had already traveled. Where they were now was about three hours south of Accumula—not accounting distractions or holdups—and day was still young. He decided that he could settle for a light snack for now, and they would have a full lunch when he reached the town.

“I wonder if it’ll take _us_ three whole days to get to Striaton,” Tristan said, pausing from eating his granola bar.

_If we keep running like we are,_ Draya thought, _I_ _’m going to be too worn out to do anything…_ She relayed her message as best she could to Tristan, mimicking severe exhaustion.

Her human laughed, “We’re only going so fast now to stay ahead of Bianca’s father. I guess we can take it easy for the rest of the day.”

_Good. I_ _’m already getting tired. Battling is fun though; I never looked at fighting as a sport before._

“Come Route 2, we’ll probably meet some other trainers for battles. Their Pokémon will be tougher than the wild ones around here. Hopefully we’ll be able to rake in some cash with the way you’ve been battling. I don’t think I’ve even seen you take a hit yet.”

“Nope, I’m too fast,” Draya said with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Tristan took a drink of his water bottle. “That Patrat just couldn’t keep up. Hell, neither could I. And… you… were…”

“I was what?” She looked at him with a genuinely curious expression.

“D-Draya?” Tristan asked, looking like he was unsure of what was going on around him. He got up to his feet and looked around their shady resting spot, suddenly very suspicious of his surroundings. No one else could be seen nearby. After his strange search, he stood a few paces away from Draya and looked down at her with a hesitant expression on his face.

“What is it? You look like you just—” Draya clapped her small hands over her mouth in shock. “Oops…” Draya cautiously stood up and backed away from Tristan even further and sat down on the grass, facing away from him.

_No, no, no, no, no, no! What did I do? How did I mess up like that? What is wrong with me?_

Tristan waited a few more moments before finally speaking, clearly still shocked at what he was witnessing. “Draya? Did you just speak to me? With words?”

Unable to even look at him, she shook her head.

“I know you did,” he said. She could hear him take a few steps closer to her. “Just now, you spoke like a human.”

She shook her head again.

Tristan placed a hand on her back comfortingly, gently rubbing her green and yellow scales, “Draya… come on…”

After a moment of this, she relaxed and looked up at him. “Sorry…” she said out loud.

“For what?”

“Lying to you, obviously…”

“What’d you— You mean… You mean you’ve been able to talk this whole time?” asked Tristan.

She nodded. “Are you mad?”

Tristan sat down next to her, “No, just confused.”

“I’ll bet, huh?”

“So…” he sat down on the grass next to her. “How long have you…?”

“A while now. Years, I guess.”

“How though? Pokémon speaking English is well… it’s almost unheard of.”

“I’ve— Well, before I met you, I was living on my own. And from time to time I would sneak around where humans lived. I eventually picked it up, I guess.” Draya laughed a bit, “It’s funny though; I can’t really seem to stop. It’s easier for me to talk like this than how I used to.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Other Pokémon understand it just as easily, so it really doesn’t matter what language I use.” She leaned back against his body.

“Why didn’t you, you know, talk before? Why’d you hide it from me?”

“Idontlikehumans…”

“What?”

“I don’t really… _like_ humans all that much. I mean, I like you, but you’re really the first one I’ve ever been close to.”

“Is that why you didn’t like my parents at first then?”

She nodded.

“Why don’t you like humans though?”

“My…” Draya paused. “My parents always told me that humans were bad. They said they were only interested in capturing us and restraining us. We always hid from humans. Always making sure none ever found our den, and never drawing attention to ourselves if we could help it.”

“What happened to them? You said you were alone before you met me,” Tristan sat upright to escape the sun’s glare breaking through the leaves of the tree.

“Well… I guess it’s my fault, really. I just sort of got curious one day, and wandered away from my family to see how humans lived, just once. I accidentally showed myself, and they chased me. I ran. But when I got back, I couldn’t find my family. I think… I think they hid themselves because I had humans following me. They couldn’t risk it. So I just ran. I ran until they stopped following me. And I hid.”

“I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said. Draya hopped into Tristan’s lap and curled up. “It was my own stupid fault for going to look at humans.”

“So, what happened after that?” asked Tristan.

“For a while I was sad about it, and I guess I still am, but I got over it. I got better at hiding myself and started looking at more humans. I stole food sometimes, but a lot of the time I just watched. That’s when I picked up how to talk like them.”

“Is that how you found me?”

“Yes. I saw how lonely you were. I overheard your conversations about how your friends left you behind. I knew that kind of feeling, and knew how that hurt.” She closed her eyes. “I debated for a while on if I should show myself, but I eventually just thought: If he feels the same as I do, he can’t be too bad.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Are you?” Tristan asked.

“I’m still talking to you, aren’t I? That should be enough to show that I trust you.”

“But why didn’t you talk to me before?”

“I guess I just… stayed in character, if that makes sense. I trusted you well enough, but I still didn’t feel comfortable talking.” Draya shifted her position in his lap. “I don’t like talking to humans. It’s just as you said: Pokémon don’t speak human. I’ll draw too much attention to myself. If humans notice me, they’ll try and catch me.” She turned over and looked up at him, “But you’re different. You let it be my choice.”

Tristan smiled at her, “Well I wasn’t about to scare you off. You were my only chance.”

“Was another month really going to kill you though?” Draya asked. “I went through being alone for a lot longer than that.”

“Trust me,” he leaned back against the tree, “when you’re stuck waiting while your friends go on ahead without you, it feels like eternity.”

She sighed, “It felt that way to me at first— being separated from my family, every day seemed to drag on forever. I guess I just got _used_ to it. That sounds pretty pathetic out loud, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“Well, I’ve heard that anyone can get used to anything, given enough time. You had to put up with it for a lot longer than I did. Plus you were free to move around wherever you wanted. You didn’t let the thought of being lonely shut you down like I did.” As he thought back on it, Tristan couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about how he handled his ordeal. It must have shown on his face, as Draya stood up on his lap and nudged his face with hers.

“Hey,” she said. “No being sad about what’s been and gone, okay? Nothing good comes from it. I learned that early on.”

Tristan smiled at her and pulled her into a hug, “Thanks for that… Let’s get going. We’ll hold off on the battles for the rest of the day if you want.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “That’s the best part!”

—————

“Excuse us, everyone?”

The voice carried through the lobby of the Accumula Town Pokémon Center, cutting conversations short and steering the attention towards whoever had made the announcement. The young man who heralded the patrons was garbed in what looked like the knights of old would wear into battle. The uniform was made up with bulky gauntlets and greaves, a shirt of chain mail armor under a white tunic with a hood seemed to be pulled from a few centuries ago, during the warring period. The red-haired man was with a young woman with brown hair, wearing identical clothing. She stood behind her companion respectfully as he addressed the people.

“If I could have your attention please,” the young knight said. “We are agents of Team Plasma. We would like to ask that you accompany us to the main plaza. There will be a public service announcement by our lord Ghetsis, in approximately five minutes. We would greatly appreciate your attendance. Thank you.” The young man bowed to the people, the woman bowing in turn.

The two turned and exited the Pokémon Center without another word. Once they left however, the Center erupted into a flurry of conversation once more. This time, Tristan could tell, the talk was aimed at the display just walked out the door.

“Did you see those two?” A man asked his friend.

“Where’d they get those getups?”

“Who’d they say they were again?” Another asked.

“Team Plasma. I’ve heard about them before.”

“You going to that thing?”

“Eh, why not?”

Tristan sat at his booth and watched people file out of the building; some alone, some in groups. He began taking another bite of his food as he felt Draya tapping his arm. Even before the two had reached the city limits, Draya had abstained from talking to him. She clearly felt the same sort of apprehension to most humans, despite trusting him as much as she did. That’s why when she spoke, Tristan looked up and noticed the entire lobby had emptied out into the streets.

“Hey,” she said. “I wanna go where they went.”

Tristan almost choked in surprise. He swallowed hard and coughed a bit before responding “Wh—What?”

“Those two who just came in looked interesting, and I want to see where they went. Not that group of people, I could do without them…”

“Oh… For a second there I thought you were getting over your fear of public speaking.”

“Shut up. I don’t like talking in front of humans.”

“You talk to me.”

“ _Only_ you.”

“You’re going to end up talking to other humans at some point,” said Tristan. “Like Cheren and Bianca, who we’re going to be spending a lot of time with here soon.”

“Not unless I have to,” she said flatly.

He sighed, beginning to clear his plate and piling his garbage onto the tray. “You know Draya, you don’t have to keep up the act anymore. You’re with me now.”

“But what if there are bad humans who want to… take me?”

“I’m your trainer. As important it is that you battle for me, I have to make sure you’re safe too. We’re partners, don’t ever forget that.” He stood up and held out his hand to his Snivy. “Now come on, let’s see what those Plasma guys are up to.”

She sat in her seat for a moment and stared at his hand. “I… I don’t have to worry…?” she mumbled.

“Draya? You alright?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Let’s go,” she said as she hopped onto his arm. She crawled up to his shoulder and climbed onto his head. “Hey, try and find a place that’s out of the way, okay?”

Tristan picked up his tray and deposited it on top of the trashcan after he emptied it of his garbage. Leaving the Pokémon Center, it wasn’t hard to find where the two members of Team Plasma had gone. The crowd that followed them from the Center weren’t the only ones to take an interest in the assembly.

Walking along the road parallel to the main plaza in the center of Accumula Town, he could see a few more agents leading groups of people down to the grassy field. A large stage had been prepared, lined with speakers to ensure that their message—whatever it was—would be heard by all. Tristan doubted anyone who had stayed in their homes would be able to ignore the noise.

Tristan noticed that two different members of Plasma were already on stage. They stood still, wearing blank expressions, staring into the slowly amassing crowd. They held two identical flags on poles. Tristan recognized the insignia; he had seen it on the two knights’ outfits. A white and black shield emblazoned with an intricate symbol that resembled a “P” over a backwards “Z”. Their coat of arms wove silently in the breeze. As groups of people were lead to the area by other members of Team Plasma, they would then take the stage, lining up next to one another.

Instead of taking a spot on the grass with the rest of the populace, Tristan walked up the slope that led to the raised section of town. Accumula Town was comprised of three main levels: the ground level, where the Center, main plaza, and most businesses found themselves; the lower level, which was home to restaurants and entertainment options; and the upper level, which had been utilized strictly for residential homes. Atop the raised area of town, one could see out to the sea which resided off Route 17 to the southwest; if one looked north, they would even be able to see Striaton City.

Tristan made his way to the small park area that overlooked the rest of the town. He had clear view of the stage, and after a few microphone checks, any worries of missing any of the speech were put at ease. He laid his belongings down on the grass in front of him and propped himself up with his arms. Draya stayed perched on top of his head.

“Oh, it looks like they’re starting.”

The Team Plasma members had all gathered on the stage; ten in total. In unison, they all snapped to attention, and separated into two squads of five. In between them now stood a man, whose choice of dress easily outclassed his subordinates. Robes dyed in contrasting purple and yellow, each side identical, but inverted. The patterns converged into the shape of two intimidating red eyes. The man’s pale green hair swooped over his scalp and fell around the strange garment that rested on his shoulders. The center of the castle-like collar was decorated with Team Plasma’s logo. Tristan didn’t notice until he stepped into the sunlight, but the man wore a peculiar red eye-piece. Tristan silently wondered if it was for a vision impairment, or the loss of the eye in question.

The man stepped up to the microphone and bowed slightly to the crowd before speaking.

“Greetings, citizens of Accumula Town. I am Ghetsis of Team Plasma. I am a spokesperson on behalf of our King. I have come here today to spread the message of Team Plasma, and to—if you so wish it—accept new members to our cause. But before I begin, I would like to thank you for your time today, and wish you all a safe return home.

“Now then,” the man called Ghetsis continued. “Today, I would like to share with you my— that is, _Team Plasma_ _’s_ goal. That goal, my friends, is the liberation of Pokémon.”

Instantly, the crowd exploded into talk and questions, Tristan nearly bolted to his feet right then. “What? Is he serious?”

“‘Liberation’?” Draya asked. “What’s he mean?”

Ghetsis’ voice boomed over the speakers once more, “Calm yourselves, my friends. I’m more than aware that such a goal can seem unpleasant, but is it so terrible?” He waited a moment as the crowd quieted down. “To us, Pokémon could be our friends, partners, and equals. But is that how they see it?” Ghetsis of Team Plasma looked down to the front row of the mass of spectators. “You sir, your Rufflet there, can you say that it is happy?”

Tristan couldn’t hear the man’s voice.

“Ah, but is that what you see? Or is that what you _want_ to see? Is that what you’ve conditioned your Pokémon to believe?” He gestured out to the crowd with his left hand, “You must open your eyes, citizens! How long have we kept Pokémon under our control like this? _Generations!_ To you, you see it as the norm, even the Pokémon do; they’ve grown used to the idea! But this isn’t how we’re supposed to live with them! Pokémon are our friends and companions, some even call them family, but not our _slaves!_ Would you force your own brother or your best friend to fight for mere _sport?_ Of course not! That is why you must release your Pokémon! Set them free! What you’re doing isn’t treating them as equals, you’re stripping them of their freedom!”

The crowd had fallen silent.

“That’s…” Tristan couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the man’s accusations. “That’s not how…”

“Humans and Pokémon have not yet earned each other’s trust,” Ghetsis said. “Only when we set them free and treat them as _true equals_ will we finally reach a harmony with them.

“I am Ghetsis of Team Plasma. I hope that you all take my message to heart, and if you are so kind, lend your power to our cause if you see the truth in our ideals.”

What Tristan heard next, he wasn’t prepared for; applause. Cheers. Cries of joy. It wasn’t the whole crowd. It wasn’t even half of the people who had gathered, but it was a generous amount. Team Plasma would have new and willing members before the day was done.

“How? How can they believe what that guy said?”

Draya looked up at him, “Isn’t he telling the truth though?”

“No, Draya! Humans aren’t— We’re not stripping you of your freedom. He’s just looking at the world through one perspective!” He picked her up and set her on his shoulder, standing up. He looked down at the crowd as it dispersed back into the town. “That man— Ghetsis, is wrong.”

“Hey, it’s just talk though.”

“What?”

“All that man can do is talk and let people take the bait. What these ‘Plasma’ guys are doing is nothing but talking. He’s just giving the idea to people. It’s not like he’s forcing these people to give up their Pokémon, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Tristan looked down over the railing, watching the precession of Plasma members walk off stage for a moment. As he turned around to pick up his gear, he failed to notice that someone had walked up beside him. “Holy— Dammit dude, you scared the—”

Standing a few feet from Tristan was a young man, just only a few years older than him. He wore a loose white dress shirt over a black undershirt. He was wearing quite a few accessories; a gold void cube decorated in green symbols hung from a chain on his khaki pants. A black and white wristband on his right arm and three gold, square bangles on his left. A black core, crossed by blue and yellow disks hung on a necklace around his neck. His vibrant green hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, trailing down his back. More green escaped from the edges of his black and white hat, flanking the sides of his face.

The man’s piercing green eyes stared at Tristan with a fiery intensity. He spoke quickly and in a tone that held equal parts anger and disbelief, “Tell me, how is it that your Pokémon’s voice is that of a human’s?”

“Wh-What?” Tristan backed up as the stranger took a few steps toward him.

“Your Pokémon. Just now, I heard its voice, but not the kind I was expecting. Its voice was that of a _human_ _’s_.”

“What is with me today?” Draya berated herself quietly, and hid behind Tristan’s head, worried about what the man would do next.

“Is it true? Tell me? Does your Pokémon’s voice sing in the tone of a human’s?”

“Hey man, slow down. Who even are you?” Tristan put a hand behind Draya’s back to comfort her.

“My name is N. If I may,” he extended a hand toward Tristan. His expression quickly softened, showing Tristan a kind smile. “It appears I have been too forward, and startled your Pokémon. I apologize. When I heard your Pokémon’s voice, it was unlike those I’ve heard before. I am merely curious, I mean no harm to your Snivy. Please, let me hear your Pokémon’s voice again.”

Tristan took his hand, shaking it. “Well, nice to meet you… N? Just N?”

“Correct. It is the name my father gave me.”

“Well, my name’s Tristan. Tristan Blake. And this,” he nodded to Draya, who had just come out of hiding and stood alert on his shoulder, “is my Snivy, Draya.”

“You name your Pokémon?” N asked.

“Yeah. I think any trainer should. I went through a few before she agreed on one.”

“ _She_ agreed? So you asked her permission then?”

“Actually yeah. I even asked if she wanted to be my partner.”

The man called N stood confused for a moment. “Is that true? You agreed?” he addressed Draya.

She merely nodded.

“Please,” N pleaded. “Your voice is nothing to hide. Let me hear it.”

“Okay, okay, just stop being so weird…” Draya finally said.

“Wha—… Weird?” N asked.

“Yeah, you’re all ‘Let me hear your voice’ and ‘you gave her a name?’… Stop it.”

“Hey, be nice Draya,” said Tristan. “He was just asking.”

“Well he asked weirdly!”

“You two…” N started, “are an impossible variable.”

“Excuse me?” Tristan asked.

“How is it that a Pokémon’s voice has become that of a human’s?” N asked. “Such a thing is… so unnatural. The Pokémon that talk to me do so in their natural tongues.”

“Hey man, just because you haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” said Tristan.

N laughed. “Quite right. Nothing is impossible…” N walked to the railing and leaned forward on it. “The speech today. You were listening to it?”

“Yeah, were you?”

“I have heard their message before. I came here to see how the people would react to the change in the equation.” He smiled, “They did not disappoint.”

“Do you follow Team Plasma’s beliefs?” Tristan asked.

“I am not one of their followers, no.” N turned around and faced Tristan and Draya. “How would you describe what you saw today?”

“People following the person with the loudest opinion,” Draya said flatly.

N laughed again, even harder this time, “No, little one. That,” he spread his arms out wide, “was the sight of the _world beginning to change._ A great deal of the equation has changed today. And soon,” he closed his eyes, “the truth will burn across the skies and change the world.”

“The truth?” Tristan asked.

“Yes. I wish to see this world change, and become true to itself. The change is coming, and all of the corruption, deceit, and hardships with which this world is plagued will be seared away.” He leaned forward, standing upright. “Tristan, what of you? What’s your take on Plasma and their goals?”

“They’re going too far with it, I think.”

“How so?”

“They say that humans and Pokémon can only live in harmony if we’re separate. But that isn’t true. I know it isn’t.”

“Is that _your_ truth?” N asked.

“Maybe I’m just an idealist,” said Tristan, “but I believe there’s good in this world. I know there are bad examples all around us, but the good in the world isn’t automatically invalidated because of it. Team Plasma only sets its propaganda on the negative.”

“And you focus on the positive then?”

“Of course.”

“So,” N held his arms out to his sides. “The world stays the same, and the world changes. Which do you see happening?”

Tristan thought for a long moment, contemplating the things he had witnessed and what else was to come. “Change.”

“I see, so you agree with—”

“I agree with you that there _is_ change coming, but not the kind Plasma is advocating. Their idea of ‘change’ is too absolute. They think that because there’s _any_ bad in the world at all, then we have to completely separate ourselves from Pokémon.” He looked N in the eyes. “A true change would be to spread the word of improving how people treat Pokémon, not pushing them away.”

“Do you really think people can have it both ways? Sometimes,” N continued, “humans are too selfish to give up something they hold dear, even if they are causing harm.”

“I do.”

N began laughing again. “Oh you truly _are_ an impossible variable.” N turned around and began walking away. “I intend to see the world change from the top.” He stopped and faced Tristan again, “And to get to the top, one must need support. Tristan Blake, the ‘impossible variable’, the one with the unshakable ideals… Can I count on you to make sure the world changes for the better?”

Tristan smiled, “If it’s change that will put the world spinning in the right direction, I think I can stand behind that kind of movement. I’ll see you at the top, N.”

“Well, then we can be friends, perhaps even brothers…” N seemed to drift off into thought for a moment. “Tristan! What is your dream?”

“Hey, yeah,” Draya said. “Your mom said you were going on this journey to work toward your dream, but you’ve never told me.”

“I didn’t? I could’ve sworn I did.”

“Nope.”

“Well?” N asked.

“My dream,” Tristan said. “Is to defeat Alder and become this region’s Champion!”

“I see,” said N. “You and I will certainly meet at the top one day.”

“Looks like it.”

“Let me test your conviction then,” N said with a grin.

“What?”

“You and I are the same. Our beliefs may be different, but their end is the same. Change. This is my vision for change,” N reached behind his back and produced a plain Poké Ball. He expanded it and released a small, dark purple feline with a sickle-like tail. It sat in place in front of N, idly waiting on an instruction. N then tapped the button on the Poké Ball, and a blue beam of light enveloped the Pokémon.

“Hey! What’re you—?”

“Showing you that I do not lack in conviction. I truly believe in my dream. Look.” N said.

The Purrloin stood up on its legs and shook itself, ridding itself of the sensation it had just went through. N then knelt down to the Devious cat, extending his hand toward it. Purrloin began affectionately rubbing his hand and leapt up onto N’s shoulder.

“Do you see, Tristan?” N asked. “We humans _can_ live in harmony with Pokémon without the need to confine them. That is what _I_ believe.” He let his Purrloin off his shoulder, and let it wander off on its own. “Pokémon are our friends. We don’t imprison our friends.”

“But your Pokémon—”

“Is still my friend without needing to be tethered to me.” He sighed. “I see by your expression that you still do not see the light of my truth. One day, I think you will. That is also what I believe.” For the final time, N turned around. “Farewell Tristan Blake and Draya. Despite being impossible, you two are… hopeful.” N casually waved back at them as he walked off and down to the main level of the town.

Tristan stood in the park for a few minutes, contemplating everything that had just happened: Team Plasma’s speech, the public’s reaction, meeting N and his display a few seconds ago. _The world is changing, huh?_ Tristan looked over the ledge and down to the town, wondering if N was still around, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“What is it?” Draya asked.

Tristan sighed and began walking down to the main level of the town. He caught a glimpse of the Pokémon N had just released, finally deciding to himself. “I’ll definitely make sure the world changes in the right way. I just wanted him to know that.”

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	4. Triple Threat

—————

The sound of a tiny voice came from the device on his wrist, sounding disappointed and confused. [“But Tristaaaan… You said you’d be in town by now!”] The scene behind the blonde girl’s head showed that she was in the lobby of a Pokémon Center. Bianca pouted heavily, impatiently waiting on her still-late friend to give an excuse.

Over the background noise of where he was sitting, Tristan thought he could hear Cheren make a remark. He tapped the armrest of the bench absentmindedly, “I know, I know. It’s my fault. _Totally_ woke up late this morning,” Tristan said, giving a convincing yawn. “What time is it now?”

Bianca pouted, [“It’s nearly noon! You said we’d go get lunch together…”]

Cheren struggled to angle the camera to focus on himself, settling on an upside down viewpoint, [“Just how far away are you, Tristan? We’ve been waiting here since we talked to you about finding your Snivy.”] Out of the three of them, Cheren had always been the one to ask questions. He picked up on the slightest hint or subtlety, and jumped at it. Tristan had to make sure he gave a suitable answer, or he’d be dodging his friend’s questions all afternoon.

“I’m not too far out, I don’t think. The roads are getting nicer the farther I go, so we’ll be there soon. Definitely by lunch, _alright Bianca?_ ”

Bianca’s face filled the screen again, [“Yay! Hurry up though, alright? I wanna meet your mystery Snivy.”]

“She’s not a mystery, just…” he glanced down at his lap. “She’s just one surprise after another.”

[“Hmph, whatever. Just hurry up, okay? And hey, we’ve got some good news for you too!”]

“What do you mean ‘news’?” Tristan asked.

[“Uhm… Kinda important… But just hurry up and get here if you wanna find out.”] Bianca said cutely. If she was worried about her father constantly chasing her and intent on keeping her at home, she didn’t show it. [“Well, we gotta go. Just ask the reception for our room and meet us here, okay?”]

“Alright. I’ll see you then.”

Tristan canceled the video feed and set his XTransceiver back to its idle mode. He leaned back, stretching his arms up and cracking his knuckles one by one. The hard material of the park bench he sat on caused a few joints in his spine to pop as well, leaving him sitting up straighter as he righted himself.

“You just lied to the two of them,” said Draya. She stood up on his lap and pointed to the rows of buildings not far from Striaton Park. The two were on the edge of the public space, sitting on a bench with most of Tristan’s travel gear piled on it. “We walked _through_ the city this morning.”

“Right, and then something came up and I had to make this detour before we went to meet up with my friends. I told you that already.” He finished stretching and checked the time once more.

“You didn’t say what it was though. We’ve just been sitting in this park staring at the fish in the ponds all morning.” Draya jumped down to the ground and held her head high, looking away from her human companion. “If your friends are so important to you, why’d you lie and say you’d meet them later? What ‘came up’ that you had to lie?”

“You stopped talking,” Tristan said.

“I— What?” she looked up at him.

“The second you noticed more people around us, you quit talking back to me.”

“Whaaat? This again?”

“Draya, come here,” Tristan held his arm down to the ground. “Please?”

Draya sighed and climbed up his arm and sat in his lap again.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not talking to them,” Draya said, turning away. “I already said, not unless I have to _._ ”

“I really think we should let them know.”

“Why? It’s not like I can’t keep up my normal act.”

“What, like how you kept it up with me around?” he asked. Tristan could see her almost wince at that mention. “You’re going to be around them a lot very soon, Draya. I think it’ll save us a lot of effort explaining it by accident than if you just come out with it. Besides, I’ll feel bad knowing something this important and keeping it from them.”

“And what if something bad happens?” she asked. “What if they overreact and make a scene, and people come to take me away? That’s the whole reason I want to keep it a secret. It almost happened before…”

Tristan poked her head playfully, “That’s what _I_ _’m_ here for. We talked about this back in Accumula, remember?”

“I do…”

“Besides, they are my friends. I trust them completely.”

“ _Yes_ , Tristan…”

“I don’t understand why you’re fighting it so—”

“I’m not fighting it! I said yes!”

“Really?”

She looked up at him and poked him in the chest, “But since you wanted it so badly, you’re going to have to explain it. But…” she trailed off. “…can you make something up?”

“What? Why?”

“Tell them you taught me how or something.”

“I can’t, because I mentioned you were mute, remember? What’s wrong with _you_ telling them _exactly_ how you learned how to talk?”

“I don’t know… just feels weird.”

“You told _me_.”

“Fine! I’ll tell them!” Draya huffed in frustration, “Why’re you so obsessed with this?!”

“Whoa, what’s the matter?” Tristan asked.

“Can’t you just let me hide it like I used to…?” she sulked.

“It’s better to tell the truth, Draya.” He gently rubbed her back, “They’ll understand what you went through and why you hid it. _I_ did.”

Draya brightened up a bit at that. “You think so?”

“Of course. And it’s up to you how much you want to reveal about yourself, too. If you want to keep your past something you only share with me, it’s your choice.”

“Alright. I’ll think of something.”

“Good. Now,” he moved her up to his shoulder, “let’s get a move on. We’re going to have to take the long way around so it’ll look like we’re just headed into town, just in case they’re watching for us.”

“Would they do that?” asked Draya.

“Bianca does. She’s always anxious about meetings and dates and such.”

He brought up a map of Striaton City on his XTransceiver as he gathered his things to try and find a back way to the main road. As they walked, Tristan and Draya talked sparingly. While she had decided on giving Tristan’s friends a chance, all these strange, unfamiliar faces intimidated her to no end. More than a few times, Tristan was given the odd glance as he rounded a corner mid-sentence, awkwardly waiting on a response until the two were far enough away.

Tristan tried to tell Draya that she was attracting more attention to herself with her constant shifting and looking around, but she ignored his advice. Their path took them through a few alleys and narrow streets, but kept them out of sight for the most part.

When they could talk, Tristan began to teach her the basics of the Pokémon League, and the Gym Circuit. “They hold the challenge every year, lasting all year. It’s pretty tough, especially once you get all eight badges.”

“What happens after that?” asked the Snivy.

“We challenge the Elite Four. They’re on a whole other level then the Leaders. And if you can beat them, then you face the current Champion for the title.”

“Sounds fun! Didn’t you say this town had a Gym?”

“That’s right. It’s a pretty odd one by regular standards though.”

“How?”

“I’ll tell you once we meet up with Cheren and Bianca. I need to discuss how we’re taking turns for the badge anyway,” Tristan said.

—————

In their shared room on the second floor of the Pokémon Center in Striaton City, Bianca sat on the side of her bed, mulling over what her friend had just told her. She fumbled with her green hat, staring at no particular spot while she thought. It sounded right, things always made sense whenever Cheren explained them, but she just couldn’t come to think it herself. She sighed and fell back on the bed, closing her eyes in protest.

“No.” she said. “He wouldn’t just lie to us.”

“It’s pretty obvious, when you look at it. You don’t see trees that well-kept, or clean benches out in the wilderness,” explained Cheren. He took off his glasses for a moment to clean some grime and dirt from the lens. “We went to the park yesterday, you saw the place. That’s where he was when you called him.”

“Oh come on, the trees? You remembered the trees?”

“I notice everything,” said Cheren. “I have—”

“Yeah yeah, a ‘photographic memory’. That’s cool and all, but I still trust Tristan. If he was already at that park, then he could already be halfway through Route 3 by now. He wouldn’t just ditch us. Why would he?”

“To get back at us for leaving _him_ behind, maybe?” Cheren sat down in the chair by the window. “I don’t know…” His eyes focused on the crowds of people entering and leaving the building below, looking for his friend. “I agree that it doesn’t _seem_ like him, but it sure looks like it.”

“It can’t be like that!” she bolted up. “Tristan’s our best friend! He wouldn’t just… Even if he did, he would only do that if he had a good reason.”

“I guess the only question now is,” Cheren said, “where is he now?”

“What do you mean?”

Cheren leaned forward, pushing his glasses back up to his face. “Is he actually coming, or did he leave us?”

“No! He’s going to show up! He said he would!” Bianca shoved her beret onto her head, and started for the door. “I’m waiting for him in the lobby! You’ll see.” She turned the handle and shoved the door open, but it stopped only a fraction of the way, colliding with something that responded with a pained cry.

“Ah! Wh—What the—?” Tristan pulled the door open the rest of the way, holding the left side of his face while his eyes watered in pain. “Nice to see you too, Bianca.”

“Tristan!” Bianca immediately grabbed at Tristan’s hand, “Oh I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry! Let me see.” She pulled his hand away from his face, bursting into more apologies at seeing the large, red streak across his face.

“Cheren,” she called into the room, “please go down and ask for an ice pack!”

“Bianca!” Tristan pulled her to face him. “It’s okay! I’m fine.”

Cheren pushed passed them, “I’m getting that ice pack…”

“Hey,” Tristan stared after him. “What’s up? No welcome to the group hug? No reunion talks?”

“Oh I think we’ll have plenty to talk about,” Cheren said. “Go on back to the room, I’ll be quick.”

“What—?” his protest was cut off by his right arm being roughly pulled back.

“Come on! He said he won’t be long.” She pulled him into the room, intent on making sure her friend that she had just injured was comfortable. As she was about to take off his backpack, she noticed a green and yellow blur pass over his shoulder.

“Oh?” Bianca spun him around, but the green blur crawled around his stomach before she could catch it. She repeated this process two more times before Tristan fell backwards onto the bed from dizziness. The green blur had no choice but to retreat to his chest.

“There she is! Come here you cutie!”

Through his dazed state, Tristan saw it coming. But despite his best efforts to try warn her, Bianca ended up collapsing onto of him on the bed as she missed her dive to pick up the agile Snivy. The impact violently expelled the air from his lungs, causing his state of awareness to further deteriorate.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Tristan!”

He opened his eyes, finding them even with Bianca’s green eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Someone cleared their throat at the doorway. Tristan and Bianca both turned to see Cheren standing there, patiently tapping his foot, looking down at the two of them on the bed. His expression was calm and calculating as usual. “You two may have a room, but I’d recommend closing the door first.”

Bianca quickly looked down at her compromising position and bolted upright. Her face quickly brightened in embarrassment. “Shut up! It isn’t like that! It was an accident!”

“Calm down,” he passed Tristan the ice pack as he righted himself. “I was just joking around.” Cheren gave Tristan a look as Bianca began fixing her tussled hair. “So long as you two were.”

Tristan just gave him a similar look and placed the cool gel-filled package against his face. Cheren nodded, understanding.

“So,” Cheren started, closing the door and leaning back against it. “I think, before we get to our celebration over our reunion, you should explain something to us, Tristan.”

“What? What’s all this about?” he asked. “Is this the news Bianca mentioned this morning?”

“No,” Cheren said, folding his arms. “It’s _about_ this morning. Were you, or were you not, in Striaton Park when Bianca called you?” He kept his gaze on his friend, watching for his exact reaction.

“What makes you say that?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Cheren asked accusingly. “Clearly, your surroundings didn’t fit where you said you were. You had already been through town, but didn’t tell us. You flat out lied. Didn’t you?”

Tristan held the ice pack against his head and said nothing.

“Answer me!”

Tristan looked on, feeling trapped. He said nothing, but felt a pair of hands grasp his.

“Tristan…” Bianca said. “Don’t lie. Please don’t.”

Seeing her face destroyed any drive Tristan had at keeping up his false alibi. “Alright…” He turned around on the bed.

Draya had, since she had leaped out of harm’s way, retreated behind the pillows at the head of the bed. She had been intently watching the events unfold, unsure of what to make of most of it. She was surprised when she noticed the focus in the room was drawn toward her. Tristan motioned for her to join him where he sat. Cautiously, she crept to his side, watching carefully as the two new humans followed her movements.

“If anything,” Tristan began, “this just goes to show I should be more careful with video conversations when you’re around.”

“Don’t dodge the subject,” Cheren warned.

“Okay, okay.” Tristan took a deep breath, “I made it to town early this morning.” He felt Bianca's grip suddenly tighten around his hand. “But—before you two think anything—please understand that I had my reasons. It’s all settled now though, and I’m here.” Tristan returned Bianca's worried grip, “I’m _here_ Bianca. I’m sorry I had to sneak around like this but I didn’t see any other way.”

“But… But…”

“Tristan,” Cheren interrupted. “Why don’t you tell us why, so we don’t have to assume the worst.”

“Why, Tristan? What’s so important that you couldn’t come to us about it first?” Bianca cried.

“It’s… I’ll explain it.” He let go of Bianca’s hands and turned to his side. He looked to Draya for confirmation, and she nodded. He let Draya into his lap, “But first, I’d like to introduce you all. These are my friends, Bianca and Cheren. And guys, this is Draya.”

“Tristan… Your little ‘show and tell’ can wait,” Cheren said. “Just tell us what you’re hiding.”

“I _am_ telling you.” said Tristan. “Say ‘hi’ to my friends, Draya.”

“Tristan, enough!” Cheren stepped forward, pointing down at the grass snake. “We’re not talking about your Snivy! We’re talking about why you avoided us! Besides, you said your Snivy was mute. I remember. This is just pointless stalling so you won’t—”

“No, _you_ _’re_ just pointlessly interrupting him when he’s trying to tell you the truth!” Draya blurted out. “Just shut up for two seconds and listen to what he’s saying.”

“I don’t need any side-commentary from…” Cheren's face lost all intensity as he began to drink in what he had just witnessed. “What?”

“You.” Draya stood and pointed at him. “You’re _so_ sure of yourself when you ‘see’ or ‘hear’ things, you don’t even consider for one second that what you remember could be wrong, even if you’re remembering it right.”

“What!”

“Tristan! She’s talking! To us!” Bianca exploded into her excited and happy state instantly. This time, her efforts to catch the small green snake were successful. She brought her into a tight hug and affectionately cuddled Draya into her chest. “That’s _sooooooooo_ cute!”

“Hey! Get— Hey, stop it! Tristan help!” Draya tried to escape the girl’s grip, but couldn’t manage to break free. Tristan merely broke into laughter at the sight.

“What!? Tristan? Anything?” Cheren stood utterly flabbergasted, trying desperately to piece together a solution to the puzzle laid out before him.

“Bianca, easy does it,” Tristan said. “She’s uneasy about this whole thing as it is without you suffocating her.”

“But this is _too_ precious! How’d you teach her? We heard she couldn’t talk at all!”

“He didn’t teach me,” Draya said, finally relaxing in Bianca's arms. “I’ve learned by watching humans.”

Cheren kneeled by the bed and came close to Draya, adjusting his glasses as he inspected her. “You taught yourself? How long did that take you?”

“Oh, now you’re interested in ‘show and tell’?” Draya laughed.

“What? This is something I’ve never seen before. Of course I’m interested.”

“Well… before I tell you, apologize to Tristan. Both of you,” she leaned her head up to Bianca. “Yeah, he lied to you, but he did it because of me. I’ll explain it all.”

“Wow,” Bianca said. “She’s very…”

“…smart.” Cheren finished. “You say she found you, right?”

“I did. But apologize, or I’m not telling,” said Draya. She was let free of Bianca’s arms, but stayed by her side, patiently waiting.

“Tristan?” Bianca asked.

“Yes?”

“As relieved as I am that this turned out to be something like this, please… please don’t lie to us like that again. I’m sorry we assumed the worst, but we were… I…”

“It’s okay, Bianca. I didn’t want to do it, but I felt like I had to.” Tristan turned to Cheren, “Don’t worry about it either, man. I know you had your reasons to suspect me.”

“He has to apologize too,” Draya pointed out.

“Fine.” Cheren folded his arms again and looked to Tristan again. “I’m sorry for doubting your intentions. Next time, just know that you can trust us.”

Draya hopped to Bianca’s shoulder and patted Cheren's face. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

The group, save Cheren, gave into a fit of laughter.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. Now spill it,” Cheren dragged the arm chair from the window to the foot of the bed.

“No!” Bianca stood up and pulling Draya into her arms again. “We’ve got to go to lunch!”

The enthusiasm quickly drained from Cheren's face, replaced with his normal bored look. “Really, we’ve got to plan more before we—”

“Nope! Lunch!” Bianca pulled Tristan to his feet. “Come on, we’ll explain on the way. It’s our good news!”

—————

Tristan thought he had recognized the structure of the building as they walked towards it, being in its shadow only confirmed his suspicions. In front of the building were tables with umbrellas to cast shade onto those who sat and ate their meals. A red awning hung over the main entrance, above which was the image of three differently colored diamonds, lined and connected with gold. Two Poké Ball statues flanked the stairway to the place, being the only official decoration that would distinguish this diner from a similar one in any other city.

“This…” Tristan said. “This is Striaton Gym.”

“Yep! I told you!”

“I thought you said we were going to lunch.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot to mention,” Bianca looked to Cheren, “We came by here one day while we were bored and we found out some interesting stuff about this gym.”

“For one,” Cheren said. “The rules have changed. The three Leaders no longer accept one-on-one battles. Challengers are required to team up and participate in a triple battle.”

“What? Really?” Tristan asked.

“It actually makes a lot of sense. It helps beginner trainers get the idea of teamwork and apply it to a real life situation.” Cheren pushed his glasses up farther onto his face, “A time saver too.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes! Cheren just doesn’t like it.” said Bianca.

“I just think it’s unnecessary,” he retorted.

“Well,” Bianca continued. “Either way, the good news is: If you win your Gym Badge you get a free meal!”

“Sounds fun!” Draya said, surprising Tristan. She never talked very loudly in public. “Just point me where I need to hit.”

“Hmm, she seems eager,” Cheren said.

“Why not?” Bianca asked. “Free lunch! Also, we get to win our first badges together! This’ll make up for our delayed departure, right Tristan?”

He smiled, “Easily. I think between the three of us—and our Pokémon—we can pull through.”

“You seem optimistic,” Cheren said as they walked up to the door. He put a hand on Tristan’s shoulder, letting Bianca walk ahead of them into the building. “How much training did you two do on your way up here?”

“Oh you know, Patrats and Lillipups. The occasional trainer challenge too. Why? What’s up?”

“Just wondering how prepared you two are,” he pulled out his own Poké Ball. “Bianca and I spared a bit, on top of what you went through. Teamwork will be hard to manage if one of the members is lagging behind.”

“Then don’t fall behind. Just watch us,” Tristan said. There was something odd in the way Cheren worded things. It almost always balanced between insulting and worried questioning. “She’s fast. Faster than you could believe.”

“Good.”

“Come on, you two!” Bianca yelled across the lobby of the restaurant, drawing attention to the two of them. “Let’s win so we can eat!”

Cheren sighed, “I think she’s looking forward to the meal more than us winning our first badge… _That_ _’s_ a good sign…”

“Good, you’re back to making those jokes of yours, even better.” Tristan clapped him on the back, walking Cheren forward while taking in plenty of awkward stares from the other patrons. “She’s got something she wants, so she’s going after it full force. We should follow _her_ example.”

“Wouldn’t that be the day?” Cheren managed a chuckle.

When the two boys made their way to Bianca, she was already talking to a waiter behind a podium. “… yes, I think that will be acceptable. Oh,” the green haired young man looked up as they approached, “are these the two you mentioned then?”

“Yes. Cheren and Tristan.”

“I see. Luckily for you three—” the waiter snapped his fingers. At the moment, a second voice spoke up from behind Tristan.

“– we just finished up our regular reservations for the day. So—” This waiter slammed his fist into his opposite hand in anticipation. His curly red hair spiraled upward like a flame and he wore a smile that exuded confidence.

“—we’d be happy to take your challenge.” The third stepped up behind Cheren, calmly standing with his arms behind his back. He moved a lock of long, blue hair out of his face in a single fluid movement, transitioning into a gesture pointing to the large double doors set into the wall behind him.

The green haired man stepped away from the podium, and walked with the two to the doors. They each turned on the spot in sync with one another, and addressed the indoor crowd.

“Attention customers! We are proud to announce that we have an official Pokémon League Gym Challenge for you all today! These three; Bianca, Cheren, and Tristan, will be battling for our very own Trio Badge, as well as our complimentary free meal.” The three all snapped their fingers, and the doors slid, rather than swung as they appeared to allow, revealing a high ceilinged gymnasium, illuminated by a glass roof, streaming sunlight into the indoor battleground. The battlefield was custom designed to suit three on three battles, shaped like an elongated octagon with bleachers on each side.

“Patrons wishing to spectate are welcome to take their plates into the stands!” the waiters called.

“Now, to introduce ourselves,” the green haired waiter started. He gestured with both hands out to his sides. “My name is Cilan—”

“—Chili!” the red haired waiter yelled, fist in air.

“—and I am Cress.” The calm waiter waved to his two partners, “We three brothers are the Gym Leaders of Striaton City. Please—”

“Enjoy the battle we are about to serve!” they said in unison. With a bow, the three brothers filed to their positions on the battle field.

The three trainers stood in place, stricken with awe at the sight they were seeing. People were filing in from all around them, taking seats in the bleachers, commenting on the battle to come. Many even wished the three trainers luck in their oncoming debut match. The three stood, watching, listening, and taking in every bit of their very first battle together—their first Gym battle.

“Well?” Tristan asked. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s _win_.”

Tristan looked to his shoulder, noticing Draya confident and excited expression.

“Yeah, let’s get out there and win.”

“Easier said than done,” Cheren added.

“Stop your worrying,” Bianca prodded. She began pushing Cheren toward his space at the edge of the battle field, “Just concentrate on winning that lunch!”

“Badge!”

“Whatever. Tristan, you too!”

Tristan nodded, taking up his own position in the right side box. Bianca took the center, leaving Cheren with the left.

The referee for the match took his place mid-field, preparing to announce the battle. “Challengers, your attention please. This League sanctioned match will be held on the terms of a three-on-three battle. Each trainer may use one Pokémon. Should one or two of the challenger’s Pokémon be unable to continue, the trainer is not disqualified. Each side of the battlefield represents a team. Only one Pokémon is required on either side to guarantee a victory for the team. However, victory can only be claimed by knocking out the entire opposing team’s Pokémon. Are these rules acceptable?”

They all returned an affirmative.

“Very well. Gym Leaders of Striaton will reveal their Pokémon first, and once all Pokémon are present, the match will begin at my signal. Leaders,” the referee walked to the sidelines of the battle field, “choose your Pokémon!”

The three Leaders of Striaton each revealed a Poké Ball, and tossed them into the air with their own personal style. Cilan’s underhanded toss, Chili’s quick and forceful pitch, and Cress’ graceful flourish of the hands were all timed perfectly. Their Poké Balls exploded in unison, revealing each a matching simian for the trainer.

“The Gym leaders have chosen Panpour, Pansear, and Pansage for battle! Challengers, your Pokémon, if you will.”

Bianca gave a simple toss, and an orange and black pig materialized onto the battlefield. The small Tepig stamped its hoof twice, and expelled a few quick embers; a show of confidence. Cheren only kept the ball in his hand and tapped the activation button. The creature that appeared stood half a head taller than Tepig, but was much prouder in its stance. Its tiny arms were folded, staring fiercely into the eyes of its opponents. Oshawott glanced to Tepig and nodded, then glanced over to Tristan’s corner of the ring.

Tristan kneeled and set Draya on the ground beside him. “Draya,” he said. “Before we begin, I’d like to say something.”

“What?”

He chuckled, “That right there. I’m very proud that you’re just… talking in front of people. Even how you got along with my friends. I have to say, I wasn’t really expecting it so quickly.”

“Hey, it’s on you to protect me if something goes wrong, so I’m just holding you to that. You haven’t proven me otherwise yet, so…”

“Thanks,” Tristan said.

Draya merely smiled back at him and rushed out to join her newfound teammates on the battlefield. Cheren and Bianca’s Pokémon watched her carefully as she approached, unsure of what to make of the newcomer. The three exchanged a few quick words in a small huddle, and then took up their ready positions. Their trainers signaled the referee, and the raised a green flag.

“Alright. Ladies and gentlemen, this Striaton City Triple Gym Battle begins,” he brought the green flag down in a quick motion, “now!”

“Pansage, Vine Whip!”

“Scald, Panpour!”

“Incinerate now!”

The three commands came at the same time, and so did their following attacks. The swiftness and precision of the attacks caught the three trainers off guard, unable to give a command in time. Luckily, Cheren's Oshawott was quick to move, dodging the Vine Whip, and taking the brunt of the Scald attack for Tepig, saving its teammate from such a hard hit. Draya easily sidestepped the oncoming flames, deftly landing safely away from the blast of heat.

“Damn… they’re quick,” Tristan muttered.

“Don’t just stand there,” Cheren called. “We need to go on the offensive. Oshawott! Water Gun on Pansear!”

“Uhh… Chao, Tackle Pansear as well!” Bianca commanded.

“No, concentrate on Pansage, Bianca!”

“O—Okay!”

“Draya,” Tristan called, “Go after Panpour, try and keep it away from the group!”

“Good thinking, Tristan!” Cheren yelled.

The three Leaders stood and watched as the three novice trainers began to fumble around the battlefield. Charging in with hastily made tactics and confusion between the three of them.

Cilan glanced to his right, “They’re learning quickly, don’t you think Chili?”

“They’ll need to spice things up soon unless they want to get burned! Pansear, Incinerate again!”

Cress sighed, “Don’t join them in their head-on tactics, brother. Perfectly timed attacks are what we need now.”

The tactic of ‘divide and conquer’ was nearly working for them. Draya was quick enough to prevent Panpour from rejoining its teammates, quickly pushing it back into a corner of the battlefield. Cheren's Oshawott was trading blows with Chili’s Pansear, parrying a flurry of Fire Punches with its Razor Shell. Bianca’s Tepig seemed to be having the easiest time of the three battles. Cilan’s Pansage was spending its time dodging the rapid fire Ember attacks, unable to get an attack in.

“You know,” Cilan said. “If this keeps up, we’ll be out quicker than I’d like.”

“True,” Cress agreed.

“I’ve got an idea, brothers,” said Chili.

“So do we,” the other two replied.

“Hey, you three!” Chili called to the other side of the battle field. Battle quieted for a moment as the hot-headed Gym Leader commanded the attention of the entire arena. “This Gym has one specific theme, even though our battle style, or type specialty might change. Do you three know what it might be?”

Without much surprise, Cheren spoke up. “It’s to teach beginning trainers the concept of type compatibility. How moves will affect certain types of Pokémon in different ways.”

“Nice one, four-eyes! Now, for a Gym that specializes in type effectiveness, do you think that we wouldn’t plan for your little tactic here? You won’t get the advantage just because your Pokémon’s natural type trumps ours. You’ve got to plan ahead! With the right move, anything can happen!”

All together, the three brothers pointed to their Pokémon, and issued a command.

“Panpour, Acrobatics!”

“Pansage, Dig!”

“Pansear, Solar Beam!”

Without the three rookie trainers realizing it, Chili’s Pansear had executed a Sunny Day attack, leaving very minimal preparation time for the Solar Beam attack. Oshawott tried to block the lance of white energy with its scalchop, but the power was too much. The tiny scallop shield shattered on contact, leaving most of the energy to still impact Oshawott in the chest. The force from the blast sent the small otter reeling back.

Distracted by the brilliant flash of light, Bianca’s Tepig didn’t see Cilan’s Pansage dig down into the earth battleground, only noticing too late that his opponent was nowhere to be seen. The green, foliage-topped monkey burst from the ground and hit Tepig in the chest. Unable to maintain consciousness any longer, the small fire pig collapsed to its side.

Draya, however managed to dodge Panpour’s wildly executed aerial maneuver. After another hard tackle, the blue monkey staggered backward, and fell onto its back, defeated.

The referee stepped into the ring. “Challengers Bianca and Cheren's Pokémon are unable to battle, as is Leader Cress’ Panpour. Trainers, please recall your Pokémon.”

“That… Dammit, I should have seen that coming.” Cheren said under his breath. He recalled his Oshawott and glanced over to Tristan’s corner.

“I’m so sorry, Chao…” Bianca solemnly held her Tepig’s Poké Ball in her arms, cradling it. “It’s up to Tristan now.”

Draya cautiously backed away from her two opponents, keeping them in her line of sight. She slowly edged her way close to Tristan. “Uh… This is scary now, Tristan. What do I do now?” she asked.

“Well… You’ve got to beat two opponents, and we win.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed…”

“Just keep calm, Draya.”

“Tristan?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Are you counting on me?”

“I… yes. We all are. Win this, and we all win it. It’s up to you.”

“What happens if I lose…?”

Tristan took a deep breath, “Don’t worry so much about that. We can always try again.” He closed his eyes, trying to think of a solution. “Oh. Draya. Remember back before we got into town? We were ambushed by those two Purrloin?”

“Yeah?”

“You beat those two easily back then, all you have to do is do it again.”

“Yeah, sure. Problem solved, I’ll just do it again…” She sighed, and began to start back to the middle of the battlefield. “Just like those two cats. Except one breaths fire now… Cool. Wait…” She laughed quietly to herself as she played out the idea she had just thought of. “That could work…”

“Draya!” Tristan called.

She turned around, “Yeah?”

“I trust your judgment over mine right now. If you’ve got an idea, go for it.”

“I do!” she called back. “You really want to risk the match with my idea?”

Tristan merely nodded, and smiled back at her. He then looked up and noticed the Gym Leaders’ startled faces.

“I’m wondering if that’s entirely fair,” Cress said.

“What the— Your Pokémon can talk!? Hahaha, now that’s a new one!”

“A fresh new taste added to this already bountiful battle,” Cilan mused. “It’s certainly suits my palate. How about you, Chili?”

“I’m burning to find out how good this talking Snivy is, that’s what!”

“Agreed. Well then, Challenger, we’ll let you have the first move,” said Cilan.

“Alright,” Tristan said. “Draya, go!”

Draya darted forward, aiming straight for Pansage. The speed of the attack caught the monkey by surprise, knocking it back a few paces. The two began to exchange attacks, but Draya was easily the quicker opponent. None of Pansage's attacks landed.

“Enough! Pansage, Dig!” Cilan called and The Grass Monkey Pokémon dodged the Snivy’s latest attack, and took cover underground.

“Let’s end this, Cilan! Together! Pansear, Fire Punch!”

Chili’s Pokémon lunged forward with a flaming fist, but Draya ran forward to escape its reach.

“Again!”

Around the battlefield, Draya and Pansear danced around each other, both hoping the opposite would soon give in. Pansear began focusing his attack on her front, leaving her only able to back away from the flames. Just as she stepped back to dodge another fiery attack, she felt the ground beneath her start to tremble. She didn’t have time to second guess the sensation, so she hoped the maneuver worked.

As Pansage burst through the earth behind her to strike her back, Pansear swung wide to hit her front. But Draya had been hoping the fight would shift to close quarters. Just as with her win with the two Purrloin, she planned to use their greater numbers against them. She ducked under Pansear’s swing, wrapped her tail around his arm, and redirected the attack straight into Pansage, who had been coming full force with its Dig attack. The Fire Monkey’s burning fist collided with Pansage’s face, while the remaining force Pansage had carried him into his partner.

Lying flat on the ground, Draya avoided both attacks entirely, and then stood up next to her two collapsed opponents, victorious. For the first time, Draya heard the sounds of humans screaming for her, not at her.

The referee raised his red flag high. “Leader Chili and Leader Cilan’s Pokémon are unable to battle! The winners are the challenging team of Cheren, Bianca, and Tristan, from Nuvema Town!”

“Yes!” Tristan yelled.

“Oh my god… Tristan! Draya! Yay!” Bianca ran over and threw her arms around Tristan in a gleeful hug. Draya scampered back to her trainer’s side to receiver her own praise for securing the win.

Cheren just stood, staring at the battlefield, and thinking how completely implausible the outcome had turned out to be. “Something’s off…” he muttered to himself. He started for his friends to join in the celebration. “Something, but what?”

Leaders Cilan and Chili both recalled their two Pokémon, and joined their brother on their side of the field.

“Well, I’ll say it. I’m impressed with them,” Cilan said.

“To think they’d turn our tactics on ourselves… It’s just beginner’s luck—” Chili said.

Cress interrupted, “Not luck, at least not entirely. There’s got to be some experience to draw from before you think of a move like that.”

“Tricky little Snivy, though,” Cilan added.

The three brothers turned, and walked toward the three celebrating trainers.

“Congratulations,” they said together.

“You three bested us in battle,” said Cilan.

“You showed that you’re knowledgeable on type compatibilities,” continued Chili.

“And you see the true value of cooperation and teamwork. It’s with these three criteria that we three Leaders recognize and approve that—” Cress added.

“—You are victorious. We would like to reward the three of you with these, Trio Badges.” the Leaders finished.

The three trainers all took their badges, and took a moment to admire them. Cheren deftly pulled out his trainer case, and pressed his into its proper slot. Bianca pinned hers to the flap of her purse. Tristan pinned his to the inside of his jacket. The three trainers were now one step closer to their goal on the road to the Pokémon League.

“Hey… wait a minute…” Bianca said cautiously.

“Yes?” the three brothers asked.

“What about our free lunch?”

Cheren sighed, “Bianca… I swear…”

—————

Two figures in identical outfits marched through the woods. One led the other, though their orientation on this path did not reflect their ranking otherwise. They stood as equals, working to see the absolution of the same goal. The first merely had more of an understanding of the wilds than the second.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” the first asked.

“What’s the matter?” the second responded. “You heard our orders.”

“It just sounds…” the first paused in thought for a moment. “…odd.”

“Think of the reward though! We’ll be made proper Knights!”

“I know that, but I don’t understand what this mission has to do with what we stand for.”

The second clasped his hand on the first’s shoulder, causing her to turn around. “Listen. In all of my time in our King’s service, I have never once questioned that man’s plans. Lord Ghetsis’ orders only further the realization of Plasma’s goal. He hasn’t steered us wrong yet.”

The second pulled away a branch, looking down on the ruined facility that was their target. “And I won’t start doubting him now.”

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	5. Bad Dreams

—————

It was so beautiful. A sight worth seeing. Something amazing.

Tristan stood in awe. All around him, towering high into the sky, were piles of treasure and gold that littered the landscape. Vast hoards of immeasurable wealth dotted the ground. He walked forward, needing to see more. He passed by many more treasure troves as he traveled. A huge ruby topped one of the beautiful collections he passed. The next one had a sapphire, another held up an emerald. Each of them had their own magnificent centerpiece which had a brilliance all their own. Perhaps more so than the treasure under them combined. But he had no interest in claiming them. He was happy enough just admiring their appearance.

He continued on his path in this place, marveling at the beauty around him. Tristan stopped and bent down, picking up a trinket from a pile that caught his eye. A lustrous crown, bright gold with a precious stone of every color dotting its sides. He set it back in its pile. It wasn’t for him, he felt. As if it wasn’t meant to be worn by his head. This pile was host to a giant opal. Its surface pure and smooth, its interior sparkled with a fire of red and blue. Tristan admired it for a time before turning away.

Leaving the opal’s pile, he turned around and was stricken dumb. The most preposterous sight was before him. A mound of dirt, almost identical size and proportion to the piles of treasure and wealth surrounding it. An odd brown copy of what he felt should be in its place. Why was this here? Atop the mound of dirt was no glimmering gemstone, jewel, or wondrous treasure. There was nothing.

This confused him.

He looked at the land around him, if only to confirm he was still in this beautiful land of wealth. The ground began to shake and split beneath his feet, staggering him. The piles of amazing gold and silver began to pour into the widening crevice. Everything was crumbling around him.

“Hey! Wake up, dammit!”

Tristan felt a pair of small hands smack his cheek rapidly. They stung more than he could bear. He was awake now. His eyes snapped open, finding a pair of bright red globes before him. The bipedal grass snake was standing on his chest, holding his face in her little hands.

“G’morring Draya…” he mumbled.

“It’s time to eat. Get up,” his Snivy commanded. She released his face and crossed her arms expectantly.

“It’s that time again?” Tristan rolled over, sending his Pokémon flailing onto the bed. “I thought you ate enough last night to last you a week…”

“Come on! I’m serious,” she whined.

Tristan rolled back over and sat up. He dragged a hand over his face. The sun was streaming into the room through the light colored curtains, painting the room in a sunny yellow. It was tempting to just lie back down and try for a few more minutes of sleep. The frustrated Pokémon next to him would make that almost impossible, he thought. Tristan stretched his arms, smiling to himself. _One badge already. I think that_ _’s a good tradeoff for all these early mornings._

“Oh yeah,” Draya said, hopping off the bed. She returned almost instantly with Tristan’s XTransceiver. “This is what woke me up. It beeped and buzzed a lot and Cheren I think was talking. I didn’t know what to do, so I just let it go.”

Tristan took the device from her and checked to see who called. Cheren. He checked his voice-mail. One message. He played it:

[“Tristan, or hopefully Draya if you can hear this, meet Bianca and I down at the cafeteria for breakfast. We need to talk about our plans for leaving town.”]

“And I bet you want to plan out our lunch breaks too…” he mumbled at the frozen image of his friend on the screen.

“Really?” Draya asked.

Tristan burst out laughing. “No not really, Draya. That was a joke.”

Lazily making his way out of bed, he continued his normal morning rituals. He’d miss the luxury of a full bathroom once they hit the road. Nacrene City was a good ways off. Seizing the opportunity while he could, Tristan took an extra-long shower, which did wonders to relieve his cramped shoulders. He suspected the stiff mattress was the culprit where that was concerned. He exited the bathroom to find Draya impatiently sitting by the door, looking every bit as miserable as she could.

“I’m dying here,” she flopped onto her back. “Let’s go.”

“I suppose we should, wouldn’t want you eating up some poor trainer’s Patrat.”

His XTransceiver had told him the projected forecast for the afternoon, and he decided to go without his jacket. One of his favorite t-shirts would do just fine, he thought. Just for today. As he was putting on his shoes, Draya climbed into his lap.

She touched his chest, “This shape was all over that building where we fought those three monkeys. What’s it mean?”

“Nothing special,” Tristan said. His shirt was plain cotton with a simple graphic on the front, as well as the right sleeve. A Poké Ball, whose bottom half trailed off as an arrow. “It’s the symbol for the Unova League. They give them out for just about any reason they can find. I got mine when I finally got my trainer’s license. Plus, it’s a cool design.”

Satisfied, Draya hopped to the floor and Tristan followed.

As soon as Tristan opened the door, the hungry Snivy shot out into the hallway. Once Tristan was finally through the door, he didn’t have to go far to catch up with her. Draya was just a few feet outside their room, standing perfectly still. She retreated back and quickly clambered up Tristan’s leg and up to his shoulder, once again safe in her comfort zone.

The sudden movement almost made him fall. “Hey! What’s that for?”

“People…” she whispered.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, comfortingly scratching her head. The hallway was empty.

Tristan made his way to the main lobby of Striaton City’s Pokémon Center. Connected to the side of the building was a café-style restaurant with tables and even outdoor seating for trainers to eat the food that the Center’s kitchen cooked up. He could already spot his two friends at their table. Bianca stood up from her seat and waved at him. Cheren just turned around and nodded.

“Food now, talk later,” Draya whispered. “I want something meaty.”

“Fine.” Tristan waved Bianca down and headed to the line to order some food. The cashier had just run up someone and he turned and greeted Tristan as he stepped up. With Draya’s breakfast already chosen for the most part, Tristan set about staring down the menu behind the counter. He was thankful there weren’t any people waiting behind him. He always was a picky eater. _A sandwich? Are those considered_ _“breakfast”?_

“Excuse me?” the cashier spoke up. “Are you ready to order?”

“What? Oh, right… uhh…” Tristan pondered the menu again. “Is it breakfast still?”

“Our entire menu is available all day,” he said. The cashier’s eyes lit up as he noticed the Pokémon whispering into Tristan’s ear. “Oh, I recognize you now. I caught your Gym Battle yesterday. You did amazing. So did you, you cute little Snivy.”

“Thanks,” Tristan said. He nudged the Snivy on his shoulder with a nod of his head, “Thank the nice man for his kind words, Draya.”

Draya slid around behind his head, peeking over at the young man that complimented her.

The man behind the counter laughed a bit, high and mirthful. “Aww, she’s shy. That’s adorable.” Draya hid back behind Tristan’s head again, earning one last chuckle from the cashier. “So, got anything you’d like to order?”

A few suggestions and light jokes later, Tristan’s food was being made and he stood waiting at the counter, paying for his meal.

“So,” the employee said, “she can talk, right? I thought I was seeing—or hearing things when I was watching you and your friends battle yesterday, but I talked to a few of my guy friends who were there. They heard her.”

“Well,” Tristan hesitated. He looked over at Draya, who was viciously shaking her head. “She’s pretty shy right now, but ye— ow!” Draya smacked his face with her tail. “Yes, she can. She’s just very uncomfortable around strangers.”

“I know the feeling,” he said as the food came from the back. He poured Tristan’s drinks and set them on the tray. “Well, here you go. Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” said Tristan.

Carefully carrying the tray full of food and two drinks with an angry Pokémon on your shoulder turned out to be no easy feat, but Tristan somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other and make his way to his friend’s table.

“Good morning, you two!” Bianca said, bright and cheery.

“Hey Bianca. Good morning. So,” Tristan said, setting down the tray, “your secret’s out, Draya. Even the people watching on television heard you talking. Are you going to give up your mute act now?”

“Nope.”

Tristan shook his head and sat down next to Cheren. He and Draya immediately dug into their food, Tristan’s chocolate chip muffin disappearing before Cheren could make a remark on a Pokémon eating on the table. Draya’s fish sandwich was gone almost as quickly.

“Draya, could you just— Oh never mind,” Cheren said. He straightened his glasses. “Anyway, what kept you?”

“I overslept,” Tristan said, trying to talk with a mouth full of food. He picked up his cup and took a long drink. “And I totally missed your call.”

Cheren leaned over the table a bit, getting a better look at something Tristan couldn’t see. He laughed a bit to himself, getting that smug look of his ready for some comment. “Well, looks like someone’s got a secret admirer.”

Bianca almost spat out her mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“Huh?” Tristan said. Cheren turned his cup around to reveal a series of numbers written in pen on his styrofoam cup. It was signed with a simple “Call me ~”.

Draya never saw Tristan’s initial reaction to the revelation; she just started at the series of digits and symbols. “What’s that mean?” she asked.

“It means Tristan might have to quit training and settle down soon,” Cheren laughed. “How about it? Get married, start a happy little family?”

“What? No!” Draya protested. “Don’t do that Tristan, we just started! It’s too fun to quit—”

Tristan put a hand on her head, “He’s kidding, Draya.” Tristan then punched his friend in the arm, “And look at him, he’s practically oozing with jealousy.”

“Not likely,” Cheren said, rubbing where he had been hit.

They held a serious glare for a moment before they burst into laughter. Bianca let out a breath she’d been holding and joined them.

“I still don’t get it,” said Draya.

It turns out that explaining a topic as commonplace as homosexuality to someone, or something, that had absolutely no idea that such a thing was possible was a troublesome endeavor. Draya barraged them with an endless stream of “Why”s and “How”s and “What”s, leaving the three friends to exchange awkward looks as they fumbled with their words. Surprisingly, Bianca had the easiest time handling the discussion.

“So, they’re together, but they’re the same gender?” the Snivy asked.

“Yes,” Bianca said. “I guess it’s pretty unheard of in Pokémon societies, so it makes sense if you’re confused.”

“Even when it’s two girls?” Draya asked.

“That’s right. There’s different words for each, but it’s mostly the same. It works both ways,” she said.

“That’s weird…” said Draya. She sat down and pondered that notion for a long while. “Really weird.”

“Well, on that note,” Cheren said, trying to steer the direction of the conversation elsewhere, “I think we should talk about what your plans for today are.”

Tristan and Bianca looked at him with a little confusion, the latter speaking up before the other. “Our plans?” she asked.

“Yes. You two,” he said. Cheren pulled two Poké Balls out of his jacket and held them up. “Yesterday while the both of you were eating dinner, I went out and caught a Pokémon. I think we all should do the same before we leave.”

“Cheren,” Bianca pouted. “You went without us?”

“We don’t have to do absolutely everything together,” Cheren said calmly. “I do want to continue traveling with you. That’ll be easier if we’re all on the same page, so to speak.”

Tristan snatched the second Poké Ball from his friend’s hand. “So, what’d you catch?”

Cheren sighed and took it back from him, “First, that’s Oshawott’s Poké Ball…. Second,” he pressed the release button of his other capture sphere twice, enlarging it, then releasing a small eaglet with a crown of white, downy feathers. It shook itself and flew to Cheren’s outstretched arm and perched there. “This is Rufflet.”

“Wow!” Bianca remarked. She had already forgotten her earlier disappointment in Cheren and now focused on the bird in front of her. It nipped her fingers when she moved to touch it, squawking defensively from its perch. Bianca quickly removed her hand, checking to see if she was bleeding. “He’s a meanie…” she said, sucking on the finger the eaglet had bitten.

“Looks like a perfect match for you,” Tristan said. Cheren’s Pokémon was now in a heated staring contest with Draya. “I thought that they lived farther north though.”

“Not in the spring, no. They’re just about to migrate back north for the summer. Don’t you remember our test on migratory patterns?”

“Sorry mister honor-roll. I hardly passed that one.”

Cheren just shook his head. When his Pokémon began flapping his wings at the Snivy’s refusal to back down, he broke the tension before a fight broke out on their table. He calmed the feisty bird by stroking the soft feathers on its head. He recalled his Rufflet once it had settled down. “Sorry about his attitude, Bianca. They’re very competitive and eager to fight.”

“He’s still a meanie…” Bianca said pointedly as she stood. “Looks like we should get out of here. Come on Tristan.” She grabbed Tristan by the hand and hauled him to his feet, dragging him towards the door. She made sure to leave with a heated glare she knew Cheren would see.

“H—Hey! Where are we even going? Bianca wait!”

“Stop struggling,” she said. “We’re going to catch some Pokémon. Together.”

Cheren and Draya stared on for a few moments in silence.

“I guess she’s mad at me,” said Cheren, trying to pinpoint exactly what he had done wrong.

“That’s what you get for going out and without them and bringing back a bird with attitude problems,” Draya said with a smirk.

“Shouldn’t you, you know, go with them?” Cheren asked.

“Oh! Right.” The little grass snake hopped off the table and ran for the door, keeping a safe distance from every human that came near her.

—————

Bianca and Tristan had left the road not too long ago, the monotone tune of pavement exchanged for the soft rustling sounds of footsteps through tall green blades. Tall trees lined the path they were taking; it had once been maintained and well-traveled, used by workers that used to commute to the facility at the Dreamyard, but it has since been reclaimed by nature. A stiff breeze blew through the forest, freeing a few leaves and sending them through the air. Not a thing was going wrong so far. Bianca removed her hat for a moment to catch the wind in her hair, relishing in the sensation. She couldn’t be happier.

Scratch that; she very well could, but she was too nervous.

She was walking just a little behind Tristan, who had his Snivy lazily sprawled over his head. They were talking about what sorts of Pokémon were wild in the area, but apart from that, the discussion was just background noise to her. Her anger at Cheren was mostly gone; she knew that such a newly caught Pokémon would be temperamental. She also never expected the three of them to make every stride in their journey at the same time. Her outburst was just petty and ill-placed anger. But it had worked out so well.

Here she was—alone in the forest—walking with Tristan. It was almost a date. If catching Pokémon could be counted as a date. Yes, she decided. It could be. But when it was actually Cheren that suggested it, is that still a date? She shook her head; that didn’t matter. She was going to make the most of this opportunity. Hopefully. Possibly? She gripped her green hat in her hands nervously.

_Why can_ _’t I just say something? “Oh, Tristan, nice weather, huh?” No, that’s dumb and cliché. “So, what Pokémon are you looking for?” No, that’s too much like I’m only interested in work. Isn’t it? I can’t let him say something first, or I’ll—_

“Hey Bianca?”

_Damn!_

“Yes?” she answered, smiling brightly.

“I don’t mean to bring it up, but last night you didn’t really react much about your dad,” said Tristan.

“What about him?” Bianca asked, knowing all too well what he meant. _This isn_ _’t what we should be talking about…_

“He’s trying to control your life,” he said.

They stopped walking. Tristan was giving her one of his serious looks. Bianca couldn’t tear herself away from looking into his eyes.

“I… I’m not worried,” she finally said. Bianca forced herself to smile. “You’re with me, Tristan. There’s no way I’ll let him drag me back home.”

“I have no intention of letting him either,” Tristan said.

Bianca was beaming on the inside, knowing he cared this much for her. She stepped forward, drawing herself close to him. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

_But I think I can show you._

“I mean it,” he said. “I know Cheren feels the same, in his own way.”

“Well,” said Bianca. She leaned closer to Tristan, trying to ignore the curious eyes of the Snivy on his head. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she put some of her weight on him. “He’s not here now. You are…”

“Listen… Bianca,” Tristan started. “There’s something…”

She was on her way to lean forward, to go for the kiss, to finally make it clear to Tristan that she wanted to be more than just “friends”, but she never got there. Something heavy landed on her head, causing her to reel back a bit. The looks on both Tristan and Draya’s faces filled her with unease. She tilted her head upward, a pair of yellow, slitted eyes stared back at her from over the edge of her green beret. It hissed, and Bianca screamed.

“Venipede,” Tristan said in a hushed voice. He backed away a few steps. “Bianca, stay perfectly still.”

“Get it off of me…” Bianca whimpered. “Tristan, please.”

“Draya, go get it!”

“Eww, no! That thing’s huge,” Draya said, disgusted.

“Get this thing off me!” Bianca cried.

“Ugh, fine…” Draya said. She prepared a leap from atop Tristan’s head, and then sprung into the air. A well-placed smack, and the purple, bulbous bug was sent flying into the trunk of the nearest tree. It fell to the ground and onto its back, where it helplessly wiggled its tiny legs, unable to right itself.

“Draya, hit it again!”

Bianca fell to her knees, calming down from her frightening experience. She watched as Tristan commanded his Pokémon, standing defensively in front of her. Bianca followed Draya moving quickly to dodge the bug’s attacks. She moved with such ease that Bianca doubted she was even trying. The fight was very one-sided. Just like in their Striaton Gym match, Draya never once got hit by her opponent.

Tristan called for Draya to back off for a moment, and while the bug followed the agile snake, a red and white ball hit it square in the head. Absorbed in its capture field, the mass of red light that was the wild Venipede was locked inside the Poké Ball, trying its hardest to escape. A few moments later, the rumbling sphere ceased its quaking.

Tristan immediately turned around and knelt down to Bianca. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so.” She blushed a bit when Tristan began to comb through her hair with his fingers. “Uhm, what are you doing?” _Not that I mind_ _…_

“Venipede are covered in tiny barbs that can poison you if you’re pricked by them. I’m checking to see if any got on you,” Tristan explained. “We’re going to have to check you out too, Draya. You guys touched quite a bit.”

Draya walked over to Tristan’s side, carrying the newly caught Venipede’s Poké Ball in her mouth. She spat it out onto the ground, “We’re not keeping this thing, are we?”

“Sure we are,” said Tristan, still focusing on Bianca’s hair. “He’s my first caught Pokémon, after all. Cole’s a fine name for the little guy, don’t you think?”

Bianca didn’t register that the question was directed at her until he asked it again. She was too absorbed in the feeling of Tristan’s hands rifling through her blond hair. “Why Cole?”

“You know, Cole Train, the defensive lineman for the Nimbasa Liepards? Scolipede are tough, big, and quick. Just like number eighty-three.”

Bianca giggled, “I get it.”

“Well, looks like— aha!” Tristan pulled his hands away from Bianca’s head. He held up a tiny, purple spine between his fingers so Bianca could see it. “This is the only one I could see, so let me know if you start feeling anything, alright? We’ll have to rush you back to town if you’re poisoned.”

She nodded, and put her hat back on, just in case another poisonous bug decided to land there. She stood while Tristan was fussing over Draya, inspecting her for any of the toxic barbs. Bianca took a look farther down their path. She could see a partially destroyed wall of a building. They were close to their destination now.

“There, you’re clean,” Tristan said. “Now Bianca, let’s find you— Ah!”

“Ow!” Bianca fell to her knees again, her face twisted in pain. Such a terribly loud noise was filling her head. It didn’t sound like anything. It felt more like sights, thoughts, emotions. It felt like pain and fear. “Ow ow ow…”

“What’s wrong?” Draya asked the two humans now holding their heads in pain. “Hey! Tristan? Bianca?”

The noise seemed to die down just as quickly as it came upon them. Bianca braced herself for a few moments, fearing it would start up again. When it didn’t, she lowered her hands and looked up to see Tristan recovering from the attack as well. “You too? she asked.

“Yeah, I heard it,” said Tristan. He stood up and nodded toward the wrecked facility of the Dreamyard. “I think it came from that way.”

“Yeah,” Bianca agreed. “I think something’s in trouble. Come on.”

Draya quickly crawled up onto Tristan’s shoulder and then they were off, briskly walking toward the demolished building.

For a while, they were silent. Bianca kept reliving that sensation in her mind over and over. “Tristan,” she said. “What do you think could’ve done that?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

They were now within the Dreamyard’s perimeter, a jagged hole where a door once marked the entrance. Bianca and Tristan walked quietly and carefully through the area. Underneath their feet, the floors of the building were still intact. Hollow sounding footsteps implied there must be a basement beneath them. The ceiling was completely gone. Grass and weeds were encroaching on some of the building’s interior. A staircase still remained, leading to what was left of the second floor of the building. They walked through the decrepit hallways, inspecting the vacant rooms.

As they inspected the area, Bianca noticed something in the air. Fog, or maybe smoke, was drifting through certain parts of the building that they passed. She pointed it out to Tristan and they began to follow the trails of wispy mist. Something about the smoke Bianca found odd was that it was pink, and worried it if was poisonous. Draya and Tristan didn’t seem too worried, so she didn’t make mention of it. It didn’t seem to be affecting any of them.

They did come upon the source of the pink smoke, but it wasn’t a sight Bianca was expecting. As they turned the corner to enter what must have been a courtyard in the center of the facility, she didn’t quite grasp what she was seeing. Two people, a man and a woman, dressed in odd clothes were standing with their backs to them. In front of them, Bianca could see a pink… something. It took her a moment to realize it was a Pokémon. It looked bruised and beaten, even from where she was standing. Bianca finally recognized it as a Munna. The man standing over it walked up to it and gave it a swift kick to its stomach.

“Enough fooling around! Do what you’re told!” he yelled at it. The Pokémon merely whimpered and coughed. A trickle of smoke seeped out from the pink dot on its face.  He reared his leg back, preparing to strike again. “Worthless…”

“Stop it!” Bianca cried out, already running on impulse. “You’re hurting it!”

The two strangers turned at the sound of her voice. Their outfits looked almost comical, she thought. They looked like they were pulled right out of the warring age. Bianca didn’t recognize the symbol the two wore, but she didn’t much care to find out right then.  Bianca moved to try and get to the wounded creature, but one of the strangely dressed thugs blocked her. He grabbed her arm and she struggled to pull away.

“Let go of me!” Bianca yelled.

“Just turn around and walk away, little girl,” the man said, his face menacing. “You don’t have any business here.”

Tristan came to her aid and wrenched the man’s gloved hand off of her arm. He pushed the man back towards his partner. “Don’t you lay a hand on my friend like that,” he growled. “You guys are Team Plasma. Right?”

“What of it?” the man asked, clenching his fist.

“Well then what are you doing to that Pokémon?” Tristan pointed to the Munna on the ground, struggling to breathe. “I caught one of your rallies. You’re supposed to be about helping Pokémon… not abusing them.”

“Don’t waste your breath. We can’t expect someone like you to understand,” the woman said. She pointed at Tristan’s shirt, “You, the both of you, you’re trainers. How can you talk down to us when all you do is hurt and imprison your Pokémon?”

“We don’t senselessly beat them like you,” said Tristan.

“If you don’t want to get hurt, I suggest leaving now, kiddies,” the Plasma member said. She and her partner both revealed Poké Balls from behind them, “We will not hesitate to protect the dream of Team Plasma!”

The Plasma members released their Pokémon, a Lillipup and a Patrat appeared, ready for battle. These people weren’t going to give up without a fight, and that was just fine with Bianca. She didn’t feel like letting these people off without some sort of retribution for the hurt Munna.

Bianca gave Tristan an affirmative glance. She was determined to stop these people from brutalizing the poor defenseless Pokémon. She grasped her only Poké Ball and threw it at her feet, releasing a bright flash of light. Her Tepig, Chao, stood at the ready. He blew a few embers from its nose in defiance of the opponents in front of it. Draya landed on the ground next to Bianca’s Pokémon, eager to battle.

Her experience at the Striaton Gym had opened her to the concept of multi-battles, an idea she felt immediately comfortable with. It helped her feel more confident with her battling capabilities. Especially with Tristan there beside her. Having already battled together before, they worked in tandem, timing and coordinating Draya’s and Chao’s attacks to efficiently counteract their foes’ movements. But the Pokémon of Team Plasma were tough, and their attacks much more ferocious than the regulated Gym Battle she had taken part in. They weren’t competing for money, and they weren’t trying to win for a badge. These Plasma members were really trying to get rid of them.

The enemy’s Lillipup was the quicker of the two foes, but thanks to Draya’s considerable speed, she covered for Chao’s sluggish movements. A few times, the little dog actually ran past its opponents and focused on attacking Bianca herself. Thankfully, Tristan was quick enough to make sure that option would always end badly. Since then, Bianca and Tristan made sure to keep their defense at the ready.

That wasn’t the end of Team Plasma’s dirty tricks. Time and again, if their Pokémon were about to be hit with a move, they would just recall their Pokémon and send them out again. Plasma’s Patrat constantly tried for Bite attacks, so that made its movements fairly predictable. As it lunged, Bianca ordered Chao to send a burst of embers at it. To avoid getting its mouth burned, it would retreat, but still get singed a bit by the small flames.

The more the battle dragged on, the more Bianca worried. Not only for her wellbeing or Tristan’s, or their Pokémon, she was also worried for the wild Munna—at least she assumed it was wild—it looked like it was in a lot of pain. It hadn’t moved to run away the entire time the Plasma members set their sights away from it. Chao delivered a hard tackle to the Lillipup while it was focusing on Tristan’s Pokémon, sending it tumbling on the cracked floor. It didn’t get back up. As Bianca looked around the room, she noticed everything had taken on a pink tone.

“Tristan,” said Bianca. “The mist is getting thicker.” As she said that, the second opponent was hit hard by Draya, knocking it out as well. Bianca felt relieved, but it was short lived. The wispy pink smoke began to move all around them, condensing in between themselves and Team Plasma. She and Tristan backed away, ordering their Pokémon to do so as well.

The ball of mist that swirled in the middle of their battleground began to change, shifting in color and shape. Pink was now yellow and purple, then more became green, tan, red. The smoke condensed and focused into the form of a man, almost imposingly tall. Long green hair tumbled down his shoulders and caught in his very strange and colorful outfit. He stood facing Tristan and Bianca, wearing a wicked smile. His right eye was covered by a red monocle. His robes’ design never actually stopped shifting, trailing off and never ending, spreading over the ground around his feet. Bianca could swear the eyes on the robe were staring at her.

Then they blinked.

“ _Greetings,_ ” he said. The voice was unsettlingly warm, friendly even, but it sent a shiver up her spine. “ _I am Ghetsis, of Team Plasma_ _…_ ”

“Lord Ghetsis?” one of the Plasma members asked him. The body of Ghetsis shifted unnaturally, flipping around instantly to look at the two grunts behind him.

“ _Imbeciles!_ ” the voice was cold and angry now. The man’s hair flew up into the air like being caught in a strong wind. “ _You are failing!_ ” He drifted around them, circling as he yelled at them. “ _We are on the brink of realizing Plasma_ _’s ultimate dream, and you let mere children in your way! What would our King think?_ ”

“Sir, we were trying to make our dream a reality. We heard the dream mist—”

“ _Enough!_ ” Ghetsis, or the specter that calls itself such, drifted back to its original spot. “ _You are nothing but failures! Unworthy to wear the crest of Plasma!_ ” The ghost shifted back to face Bianca and Tristan, its face calm once more.

“ _I_ _’m terribly sorry, my children. These ill-advised apprentices were acting on their own accord. Team Plasma merely wishes to separate Pokémon from foolish people that want hurt them. And when people hurt Pokémon… they will be punished…_ ” His head slumped forward, limp on his neck. Around him, the strange collar became a wide mouth with long teeth. The new jaws closed and swallowed his head. A new body rose out of the robes, one covered in black fur and purple scales. Its head, its center one at least, roared as it broke free from the colorful prison. The man’s robes pooled to the ground and evaporated. A purple crown of horns surrounded this new creature’s head. It had pitch black eyes. Six thin wings flapped as it hovered in the air. Two more heads snaked from its neck. From their mouths dripped black saliva, the ooze seemed to melt the ground as it dripped.

“ _Severely punished_ _… In the name of our King._ ”

The black and terrible creature slowly turned around to the now cowering Plasma members. Its lips curled, revealing rows of frightening teeth. “ _You will now be liberated!_ ” It flew towards the Plasma members and they turned and ran away. The terrible dragon chased them away, far into the forest. Roars could be heard just after the screams.

With the mist and whatever it had conjured up gone, only the wounded Munna remained in front of her. Bianca had been through two frightening experiences today. She felt absolutely worn out, but she still had something that needed doing. She looked to Tristan, who looked as perplexed as her.

“You think it’s gone?” she asked.

“I don’t think it was actually here,” Tristan said. “Draya and I saw that guy, Ghetsis, at a Plasma rally in Accumula Town. He’s human, not… whatever that was. It looked like something from a nightmare.”

Deciding to move, Bianca carefully made her way towards the hurt Pokémon on the ground. Its eyes were swollen shut, but it reacted to her approach. It whimpered a little and tried crawling towards her. She knelt down next to it and carefully took it into her arms.

“Tristan, we need to get back to town. Now,” said Bianca. “Chao, you run along ahead of us in case any Pokémon try and slow us down. Draya, could you help him?”

“You got it,” she said.

“I’m calling Cheren now,” said Tristan, tapping away at his XTransceiver. “I’ll tell him to let the Center know we’ll need some intensive care ready for us.”

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	6. Truth Will Out

—————

The days that immediately followed Tristan and Bianca’s harrowing experience in the Dreamyard had brought change and pulled the attention of the three young trainers from Nuvema Town away from aspirations of the Pokémon League. The police had no success in finding the members of Team Plasma that were responsible for the cruel mistreatment of the Munna, so they decided that they would bring them to justice if they could. While at the Striaton City Pokémon Center, the three of them were approached by a woman named Fennel, a Pokémon doctor and friend of Professor Juniper who had been studying the Munna species for years. She invited the three of them to stay at her home while she took over the care for the injured Pokémon.

While all three of them accepted her kind offer, Tristan and Cheren felt unable to sit and do nothing while the the Munna received treatment, and decided to do some training of their own north of town on Route 3. Soon after they arrived, they came across another shocking and terrible event. The daycare that sat quietly on the road between Striaton and Nacrene City had been attacked by another group of Team Plasma members. The children had their Pokémon stolen and desperately pleaded for Cheren and Tristan to get them back for them.

Still angered by the Dreamyard incident, the two young boys hastily agreed and ran after the supposedly rogue Plasma grunts. The trail led them off of the main path and Cheren spotted one of their targets entering Wellspring Cave—an aboveground access to an underground river. It was dark inside, but the two trainers instantly heard voices coming from deeper in the cave. As they sneaked closer to the Team Plasma members, they saw that they were putting all the Poké Balls of the stolen Pokémon into a bag, and prepared to throw them into the water.

Against Cheren’s advice, Tristan leapt out from behind the rock they were hiding behind while commanding Draya to snatch the sack of Poké Balls from the grunt. With the kids’ Pokémon safe with them, Tristan and Cheren fought off the angry attacks from the many Plasma members. When the battle looked to be falling out of their favor, one such member called upon their Woobat to use Flash in the dark cave.

While Tristan and Cheren were blinded, the Team Plasma members ran past them out of the cave. As fast as they could manage, the two trainers regained their eyesight and made to run after the rogue grunts, but something pulled Tristan’s attention back into the cave.

Draya had hidden herself behind a rock and was visibly shaking, groaning in pain and discomfort.

“What’s wrong?” Tristan asked.

“G—Go away…” Draya struggled. Her body began to shimmer and glow with the telltale signs of evolution. “Pl—Please go…”

“It’s okay, Draya,” said Tristan. “You’re just evolving. It’s a perfectly natural thing to go through.”

“But… I can’t…” she hunched her small green body over herself. “I don’t want…”

“You don’t want to evolve?” he asked.

“I don’t want you to see me like this!” Draya yelled. “Please, go away!”

The glowing of her body brightened, her form began to change and shift, and Draya screamed for Tristan to leave her. Then, the convulsions stopped, and Draya sat perfectly still on the damp cave floor, still very much a Snivy. She slowly looked at herself and stood, running over to see her reflection in a pool of water.

“Wh—What happened?” she asked, breathing heavily. “Did… Did I not—?”

“I stopped your evolution,” Tristan said.

At Draya’s surprised look, he brought up his Pokédex and held it out to her. She could hear a dull buzzing coming from the device.

“These have the ability to stop a Pokémon from evolving, if it’s used in time. There’s some advantages to staying in your smaller forms while training, so some trainers use this to help make their Pokémon as strong as they can be,” he explained. “I don’t know why you don’t want to evolve, but if you really don’t, you don’t have to push me away. I’m your trainer and I take care of the needs of my Pokémon.”

“You mean… I can choose when it’s okay?” Draya asked.

“Sure. You can stay a Snivy forever for all I care. You’re plenty strong as it is, and keeping you like this will only help that even more!” Tristan gently rubbed her scaly head. “You helped me by showing up back at home, so if you need _anything,_ I mean _anything_ , don’t hesitate to say something.”

“Okay…” Draya smiled. The Snivy took a deep breath and calmed herself down. “Thank you.”

Before Tristan could respond, he received a call on his XTransceiver from Cheren.

The group of Team Plasma members had split up along the main road, and Cheren was already in pursuit of the ones headed toward Striaton City. He told Tristan to return the Pokémon to the children at the daycare, then to follow the other group headed southwest.

—————

Nacrene City has been the site of great influence on the Unova region over the years. In more recent history the only business conducted here was purely commercial. It could hardly have been called a town, much less the city it was today. Countless companies and organizations owned spaces in which they stored whatever they wanted in large warehouses. The city’s largest draw at the time was its train station, which saw the shipping of traded goods more often than people. There were more storage facilities than residential housing at such a time. Such frivolous commerce was the norm almost a century ago, and has since spread much more evenly throughout the region.

The warehouses still remain, though some have been tastefully restored over the years. Bright colors and various additions or renovations gave the old relics a purpose again. Many of the old buildings were converted into people’s homes, places of business, or recreational space. The renewed life that filled the city brought the attention of artists and clothing designers to the town from all over the region. Many of the warehouses were now studios for artists to create new styles and pieces for their gallery. Such a community transformed the city into the modern day haven for those who delve into the aesthetic arts that it was now.

While the artistic influence had spread throughout most of the city, there are still a few buildings that remained almost untouched from the corporate-run days. The train station in the southern corner of the city fell into disuse nearly fifty years ago with the introduction of the region-wide subway system. While the buildings that surrounded it were some of the more frequently used in their time, citizens and artists haven’t been in a hurry to clean up every building in town. So often, an artist would only use one of their studios for a few months, leaving it to be used by another or sold to anyone wanting to buy. Being so far out of the way from the city’s busy center, these rows of buildings hadn’t seen much use since their old days.

A week had now passed since Tristan and Cheren had taken it upon themselves to capture the rogue Team Plasma members. To them, things had seemed rather simple. Find the culprits, report them to the police, and be done with it. Cheren worried that the group headed toward Striaton City may find and attack Bianca and hadn’t left her side since. Meanwhile, as Tristan had set off to Nacrene City, he hoped to end his search for the Plasma members quickly, but had no such luck. When Tristan had arrived in Nacrene City, he was met with his first major hindrance to his mission: the city was a big place. Starting out, he had no idea where to begin looking.

He had gone straight to the police when he arrived in town in hopes that they could help him. He told them of Team Plasma and the illegal activities they committed in the Dreamyard and Route 3. To his disappointment, they all but flatly refused to help. If it was simply a bad day for them or if they were genuinely disinterested in his claims, Tristan couldn’t tell.

“Listen kid,” a Lieutenant Higgs had told him, “it’s not like we don’t want to help. Don’t think that. We’re just up to our eyeballs with as many calls as you can think of already. About a third of the people you see walkin’ around here aren’t even living in the city. That means a lot of places are their ‘work shops’ or ‘creating zones’ or whatever they call them are empty half of the time. We’ve got officers on patrol all around the city making sure these buildings aren’t broken into. And these artsy types call us in for every little disturbance they hear, thinking one of their competitors are trying to break in and steal one of their new designs or for some other reason. So, until you have any hard evidence these Plasma guys are in our city, we’ll continue doing our jobs.”

Tristan tried a few more times to get their cooperation, but the most he could get was a solemn “promise” they would help apprehend them if Tristan found where they were hiding. Before leaving the police headquarters, he made sure that this wouldn’t just end up getting himself charged with vigilantism. _Wouldn_ _’t that have been fun? Sitting in jail with a bunch of thieves, just for catching them?_

Now, in the ruined and downright disparate end of town, Tristan and his Pokémon continued their hunt for the criminals. He could hardly believe the stark contrast the area had with the rest of the city. The buildings all looked their age; some smelt it. Letting them sit and continue to fall apart over the years was a poor decision on someone’s part. While it was obvious that no one had taken the time to clean or repair these buildings, it was obvious people still lived in them. Not everyone was lucky enough to be able to afford a nice home these days, Tristan reminded himself.

He wondered if many people knew about these people living in the rundown storage buildings. Piles of garbage and the strange dwelling or two dotted the rows of paved roads between the empty warehouses. Tristan had originally tried asking the homeless people for help, but after a couple of tries and a few unhelpful responses from a few vagrants, he could see it was a lost effort. No one had seen and sign of Team Plasma.

He walked down an alleyway, dodging piles of junk and jagged pieces of glass that would always be in his way. Tristan made small mental note to buy some more durable footwear. Draya hopped along behind him. Today, he’d been trying a different approach in his search. He suspected the Plasma grunts were aware of his continued pursuit of them, and as such, would be watching out for him. So instead of sneaking around every corner, he was making it very obvious where he was. To compliment this, he sent Cole to survey buildings away from where he was. If Plasma were keeping an eye on him, they would likely move or stay in a location further away from him. They would certainly overlook one more bug on the wall.

Unfortunately, the day was dragging on longer than he was expecting. After so many days without any new leads the hours of urban exploration were starting to wear his patience thin. He was relatively sure that they were still in the city, but if they had slipped by and into Pinwheel Forest, there would be little chance he would find them in there. Tristan sat down on an overturned garbage can, leaning against the wall of the building behind him. He wiped the sweat that was beginning to trail down the side of his face.

“Hey, Draya?” he asked as his Snivy hopped into his lap.

“Yeah?” Her new Everstone collar was loose around her neck. “This thing is so annoying…”

“It’s what’s keeping you from evolving now,” said Tristan. He idly adjusted Draya’s collar to a more secure fit. “But I want an opinion; Twice now, we’ve run into members of Team Plasma doing horrible things. But their leader says they’re a group striving for a good cause. ‘The liberation of Pokémon from humans’, they want Pokémon to be free. But the things we find them doing aren’t right. Hurting Bianca’s Munna, stealing those kids’ Pokémon and planning to throw them into the water… I don’t get it. What do you think about all this?”

“Ghetsis is a liar,” she said. “Simple as that.”

Tristan blinked, surprised at her quick response. “You think he knows this is going on?”

“Oh yeah.” Draya reclined onto her back as she talked. “How could he not? He might be all smiles and fancy words when he’s speaking in public, but that’s just what he wants people to see. There’s the Plasma everyone sees, then there’s what we’ve come across. They’re working in the background doing what they really want to do while the world still sees them as a group for good. Then, if anyone finds out about their bad side, people are less likely to believe it without proof.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” said Tristan. He removed his water bottle from his pocket, taking a few gulps of water. The sun was really beating down today. He offered the bottle to his Pokémon. “So the entire idea of Team Plasma is based on a lie that a figurehead spoon-feeds everyone.”

“If you're only told a lie,” Draya said between gulps, “that's the truth people believe in.”

Tristan raised his head against the wall of the building, mulling her words over. “That’s the tricky thing; people really _do_ think Team Plasma is right. It seemed like N really believed in what they were saying,” said Tristan.

“His name is _N_. Of course he’s going to think weird things…”

Before Tristan could say anything else, something spiky and flat landed on his head. An exploratory tap confirmed what it was.

“Ah, Cole. Nice of you to drop in,” he said, picking up the Centipede Pokémon and setting him down in front of him. Every time he would do that, Tristan had to glance at his palms for any poisonous spines. Thankfully Cole had become accustomed to Tristan and Draya very quickly, and no longer extended his poisonous defense mechanism around the two of them. “Did you find them?” Tristan’s Venipede responded with a series of chirps and hisses, he seemed rather excited. Draya gaped at whatever he had said. She had him repeat it.

“Well?” he asked.

“They’re in that building behind you,” said Draya, pointing at the brick wall Tristam was leaning against.

Jumping to his feet, Tristan turned around to stare at the building behind him, hardly believing his luck. A rush of excitement flowed through him. He was going to check inside it anyway once he got moving, but now they have the element of surprise. Cole had been searching buildings for hours, but returned once he got hungry. As he was crawling over the roof of the building, he had heard people’s voices coming from inside. A quick infiltration through the building’s old ventilation shafts, Cole saw that it was Team Plasma inside, and hurried back to Tristan. The style of warehouse they were holed up in had only three exits; the main door, a large garage door for vehicles to come and go, and a door that lets out on the roof, with a fire escape ladder leading down to the ground.

“Good job, Cole.” Tristan set down a small meal of berries he knew his Pokémon liked. “We’ll need to make sure they can’t escape this time…” he said, thinking of a plan.

—————

_It was almost too easy_ , Tristan reflected. _Oops. That_ _’s not a good thing to say. That always makes bad things happen in movies and stuff._

_This just_ worked _._

His plan went off without a single hitch. After quietly scaling the ladder to the roof of the building and barring the door, he called the Nacrene police department to say that he’d cornered the fugitive criminals. Next, all he had to do was occupy their time while the authorities arrived. Draya and Cole at the ready, he burst into the warehouse to confront them.

They never even tried the roof exit.

Team Plasma’s battling habits were no more ethical or sporting than he was used to, but their Pokémon seemed tired and lacking the drive to fight. Tristan wondered if they even cared for their Pokémon. Within five minutes he had them beaten and surrounded by a barrier of Toxic Spikes, courtesy of Cole. Strangely, the motor that ran the building’s large sliding door worked, and the building had power, which seemed odd to him, but he didn’t think much of it. He had them rounded up outside as the siren of a police car were coming into earshot. He had Cole carefully lay down more Toxic Spikes to make sure none of them tried escaping.

“Who do you think you are?” one of the grunts asked. They were all obediently sitting outside of the warehouse, keeping a close eye on the sharp barbs surrounding them. “We’re not the ones terrorizing people. We’re trying to save Pokémon!”

“Save it,” Tristan said. “I don’t think the cops haven’t heard that story yet. Don’t want to wear it out.”

Blue and red lights flashed around the bend just as they made it out into the road. Tristan told Draya and Cole to make sure the Team Plasma members stayed put as he went to meet the officer. To his satisfaction, it was the same one who Tristan had talked to when he arrived in the city.

“Well, lookey there. You weren’t kiddin’,” said Higgs, stepping out of his patrol car. The officer’s hands came to rest on his belt as he surveyed the area. “You ever think of joinin’ the force, kid?”

“Not very hard,” Tristan admitted. Childhood dreams of careers flooded his memory for a moment. “But don’t think you should get more cars to bring them all in? I don’t think five of them will fit in your backseat.”

“Yeah well,” the officer cleared his throat. “About that. You see, we’re not bringing them in.”

“What? Why not? They’re criminals, they’ve broken the law, arrest them.”

“They’ve already made bail,” said the officer, nodding up the road.

Two more vehicles were rolling up to the warehouse, coming to rest just behind the officer’s car. Large, gray vans, both with the Team Plasma insignia on their sides. The lead van’s passenger side door opened and a tall man with green hair stepped out. Tristan recognized him immediately. Two Team Plasma members got out of the second van and stood guard by their rogue teammates.

“Greetings,” the man said to Tristan as he walked up. The man’s face was calm but alert. He eyed Tristan with much interest. “I am Ghetsis Harmonia, of Team Plasma.” Ghetsis gave a short bow of his head, “I would like to thank you for apprehending these misguided people for us.”

“For you? What do you mean?” Tristan asked. “They broke the law, they should be arrested.”

“I’m afraid you are right,” said Ghetsis. He turned and gestured at the detained members of Plasma sitting on the ground. His expression seemed remorseful. “These poor souls have lost their way, and have been using the badge of Plasma to spread hate. Our organization has been hard at work for some time trying to bring them to justice.”

“Then let them be tried and put in prison!”

“Kid, they’ve made bail already,” the officer said. “There’s nothing else to it.”

“But they haven’t even been arrested yet,” Tristan complained. “How can you just let them walk away?”

“I can explain, my son,” Ghetsis said with a smile. “I came to this city’s police department a few hours ago, requesting their help. I had heard whispers of these lost agents of mine in this town and had hoped to retrieve them. They told me that someone else was already on the case and advised me to wait until they were found. I assumed they had a professional detective looking for them, not a young trainer such as you.”

“I told Mr. Harmonia here the crimes they were accused of, and he requested that he pay their whole bail up front, so that when they were found, he could take them in himself,” said the officer.

“Isn’t that like paying you off?” Tristan accused.

“Hey! I’m no crooked cop,” he countered angrily. “This man saved us a load of man hours and paper work that would have just been a waste of time. He gets his people back to deal with, they pay the price for their crime, and we all get on with our lives. He’s doing everyone here a favor.”

“But this won’t do anything,” said Tristan. “They’re just going to free to do those things all over again.”

“Do not worry,” said Ghetsis. “I fully intend to take responsibility and punish these sorely lost individuals. My goal, that is, Team Plasma’s goal, cannot afford any interference, especially not from within our own organization.” He nodded at the two men guarding the captive Plasma grunts. They began ushering them into the second van. “Thank you again for doing your part to further Team Plasma’s goal of Pokémon liberation.”

“Don’t mention it…” Tristan said. He clenched his fists as he saw the people he had been tracking down seemingly walk away without knowing if they would really be punished.

As Ghetsis slowly walked toward his mode of transport, he glanced down when Draya and Cole made their way back to Tristan. He turned back around, “Excuse me, my son?”

“What?” Tristan answered. He bent down and let Draya climb up his arm.

“Might you be Tristan Blake?” Ghetsis stepped forward a bit.

“And how would you know that?”

“Many whispers reach my ears. I’ve heard one of a trainer with a rather special Snivy,” said Ghetsis. He bowed, “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“I wish we could say the same,” Draya spat. Tristan was surprised at her willingness to talk to a stranger. “Your people are doing horrible things!”

“My, my. Aren’t you…” Ghetsis leered at her. “Yes, very special. I assure you two, that anyone who slanders the name of Plasma will receive a swift and adequate response.”

“Right,” Tristan said. “I’m sure they will.”

“Well then, we should be off. Thank you again, Officer Higgs. And thank you, Tristan Blake.”

Ghetsis slowly made his way back to his van, accepting the help of one of his attending subordinates to get into the vehicle.

“He’s definitely a liar…” Draya whispered. “And he’s a cripple.”

“What?”

“Whenever he walks, he tries hard to hide a limp in his right leg and he never moves his right arm,” she said. “His face also looks like he’s in pain all the time.”

“Your point?” Tristan asked.

“I know where to hurt him,” she said.

“Leave the old man alone,” Higgs said behind him. “Probably just arthritis.”

Tristan ignored the policeman and started walking back towards the busy area of town. He heard the police car start back up and watched with contempt as it sped up the road ahead of him. As he recalled Cole into his Poké Ball he thought of something. The Team Plasma members he had been hunting had been hard to find, but when he finally did it was like they didn’t care that they had been caught. Their fighting was less than adequate, but Tristan initially thought it was either because they didn’t care to or couldn’t treat their Pokémon from their earlier fights. The building they were found in still had power.

What if it wasn’t abandoned?

“What if it didn’t matter?” he asked. Tristan stopped walking as the pieces fell together in his head.

“What’s wrong, Tristan?” asked Draya.

He didn’t answer her. He needed to make sure he wasn’t over-thinking things. He turned around on the spot and ran back to the warehouse they had just came from. Inside, he immediately looked for anything that would control the lights, if they still worked. He found a switch and flipped it, illuminating the rest of the warehouse. Even though the outside was the same kind of weathered brick and dirty windows, the interior was new and clean.

He saw cardboard boxes, some opened and a few still sealed shut. They all had Plasma’s crest on them. Littered around the floor of the building were empty packages of food, supplies, even discarded clothing. There were even a few vehicles, similar to the ones that Ghetsis and his grunts arrived in.

“None of that mattered! Any of it!” Tristan kicked a half-finished can of drink across the room. It crashed into something, but he didn’t care what. He dropped down to the floor, clenching his hair in his fists. “Those guys were just waiting for their leader to come pick them up. They own this building—have for years probably. So they sat in there, waiting to be picked up, or brought to the police and be saved anyway.” Tristan dropped his arms to his side, letting his head slump down. “He played us. We didn’t even matter.”

“Hey, hey, don’t get all emotional now,” said Draya. She hopped to the ground, making sure she was in Tristan’s field of vision. She nudged her head under his chin, “It’s not like it wasn’t _all_ for nothing.”

Tristan looked at her, unsure of what she meant.

“Well look! We’ve already stopped them twice, and we’ve definitely got their attention now. We kept them stuck in this place for days while they had to wait for their leader to come save the day. And you know what else?”

“What’s that?” Tristan asked.

“They left the door open,” Draya pointed out to the open world outside of the warehouse. “You think those poor people we’ve been seeing would like some free food? A car or two?”

Tristan blinked, looking around at the building. It certainly was full of useful things. He smiled, rubbing Draya’s head. She gave him a sly grin and continued, “It’d be a shame if these things went to the wrong cause.”

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” said Tristan.

“Let’s go spread the good word!”

“Oh!” Tristan jumped to his feet, powering on his XTransceiver. “That’s right.”

“What is?” she asked.

“Spreading the word.” He began to call Cheren. A message on his XTransceiver said he had twelve missed calls from him. “Shit…”

His friend picked up after the first few rings, [“Tristan! There you are.”] The image on the screen showed some laboratory or hospital. Machinery and screens Tristan didn’t understand lined the walls. [“Where’ve you been?”]

“Sorry,” Tristan said. “Had things to deal with. Listen Cheren; don’t let any of Team Plasma‘s officials get near—”

[“Save your breath,”] said Cheren. He shook his head, [“That’s what I was calling _you_ about. I’ve already lost them.”]

“Dammit!” Tristan swore. “Ghetsis was there too?”

Cheren cocked an eyebrow, [“No. A man named Zinzolin came and rescued the members I was after. He was one of their Sages, whatever that means. Ghetsis himself came and brought yours in?”]

“Yeah. The grunts are gone, but,” Tristan angled his wrist to show the inside of the warehouse, “we found one of their hideouts.”

[“Interesting,”] said Cheren. Tristan brought his arm back in front of him. [“Can you find anything useful inside?”]

“From what I can tell, it looks like just a storage facility,” Tristan said. He began walking through the building and rummaging through the various boxes and searching for anything notable. “Nope, just a bunch of supplies, extra uniforms, empty Poké Balls. Oh, here’s a cloth banner, let’s see. ‘For the Glory of our King.’ That’s all it says.”

[“I wonder who that could be? Bianca said that illusion of Ghetsis you both saw in the Dreamyard talked about the ‘King’ also. Maybe Ghetsis isn’t their real leader…”] Cheren paused to think while Tristan finished looking around the warehouse. [“Take a few of the uniforms, just in case,”] he suggested.

“Will do.”

[“Anyway,”] Cheren said, adjusting his glasses. [“Bianca’s caught the Munna—she’s named it ‘Moony’—and it has made a complete recovery. We’re just at Doctor Fennel’s place currently while she learns more about the Dream Mist it generates. We should be on the road again as early as tomorrow afternoon.”]

“That’s great,” said Tristan. “You want me to meet you halfway or something?”

[“Don’t trouble yourself. We’ll be taking our time as we train our Pokémon. If you’re up to it, feel free to challenge the Gym. Just don’t move on ahead without us.”]

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[“By the way,”] Cheren said, lowering his voice. [“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s about your Snivy. In private.”]

Tristan glanced over his shoulder, seeing Draya across the warehouse. She was digging into a box, spilling its contents all around the floor. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but go ahead.”

[“There  might be something wrong with her. I’ve noticed in all the battles I’ve seen her in, she hasn’t used _any_ Grass type moves. None at all. Have you seen her use any?”] cheren asked.

“I… No, I guess not. I never really thought about it. She’s more scrappy and physical when she fights.” Tristan felt unease rise up in him. “What’s your point?”

[“I talked to Fennel about it,”] Cheren said. [“She couldn’t think of a reason why Draya hasn’t managed any Grass type techniques yet either. If it goes on too long, I suggest catching another Grass type Pokémon.”]

“I’m _not_ replacing her!” Tristan said in a harsh whisper.

[“I didn’t say that. I’m just being realistic. If you still want a Grass type to train…”]

“I’m not talking about this now. I’ll see you when you get here.”

—————

“He looks even weirder now…” said Draya. She was peering over Tristan’s shoulder, down to the ground beside him where Cole was keeping apace, rolling on the ground.

Two days had passed after their failed attempt at apprehending the Team Plasma members. Apart from that disappointment, their unplanned gifts to those less fortunate had gone over very well. _At least some good came out of that week long hunt._

Yesterday and the day before had been filled with training outside Nacrene City on the outskirts of Pinwheel Forest. The tricky wetland environment made battling a hassle. The area ended up being a great place to practice in, once they had become accustomed to it. The muddy ground restricted his Pokémon’s movements and worked their bodies much harder than they normally would have.

Cole, having struggled the most in that terrain, ended up evolving after taking down a rather stubborn Audino. He now rolled along on his circular shell as a Whirlipede. He wasn’t as agile as before, but far more capable of taking hits. Many wild Pokémon ended up poisoned as a result of his spiny exoskeleton.

“That’s what happens when you evolve, Draya,” Tristan said. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Not right now…”

“I’m kidding,” he said. He playfully tapped her collar. “You’re still the one who gets to decide that.”

The last report he had gotten from his friends put Cheren and Bianca still somewhere on Route 3. It didn’t sound like they were making any remarkable progress, but any progress is something. Tristan was sure the extra time would be good for the both of them. Cheren’s Rufflet still had its short temper by the sound of things, and Bianca’s battling skills still had much to be desired. Cheren was nothing if not knowledgeable on most things related to battling, and with the addition of a Psychic type to her roster, Bianca may be able to help find the root of the bird’s bad temper. _They_ _’ll either fix the other’s problem,_ Tristan thought, _or their personalities will make a new set to deal with._ He laughed to himself at the various escalating situations that could arise.

“Big building, ho!” Draya stood up on Tristan’s shoulder, pointing up the road. “Is that it?”

Most Pokémon Gyms were just that, a place where trainers and their Pokémon battle and grow stronger. For the second time now Tristan found himself heading to one that served another purpose. The city’s Gym Leader and her husband also directed the Nacrene Museum. The Gym itself was a feature of the museum, fitting in right with the abstract nature of Nacrene City. Like Striaton Gym, Tristan had to make a reservation for his battle. His was in fifteen minutes.

Tristan walked underneath the stone archway and into the cool air of the museum. He was greeted as he entered by the attendants. After explaining his appointment, they let him past. Tristan was free to browse the museum before his battle with Lenora, the Gym Leader, but he was more concerned with going over his team’s strategy before the battle began. He and his Pokémon began heading toward the center of the large building; the battlefield was the center most section of the museum.

“Four hundred sixty-seven thousand, eight hundred seventeen years old,” a voice to his right caught his ear. “You saw things I hope to see one day.”

Tristan turned to see a large slab of stone propped up behind a glass window. Encrusted in the stone were the bones of a Pokémon, one long dead and extinct. Its height and size surely would have made it impressive in its own time. Tristan then recognized the person standing in front of the display. They had their hand on the glass, staring longingly up at the skull of the creature.

The man took off his hat for a moment and bowed his head. “I’m sure we could’ve been friends,” N said, replacing his hat upon his head. He turned and saw Tristan regarding him with a look of surprise. “Well, I was not expecting to see you here.”

“Same here,” said Tristan. “I didn’t take you to be a history buff.”

N smiled to himself, idly examining the golden, segmented cube hanging from his waist. “The past can teach us many lessons. Patterns are always there if you look for them.” N tilted his head, looking from Tristan to the ground at his feet. “Whirlipede, you’re a new addition.” N stepped forward, lightly grabbing Draya’s Everstone collar in his fingers, “And what is this?”

Draya batted the intruding hand away, “It’s mine.”

“But it is holding you back,” he said. N placed his hand over his heart. “You are just about to flourish. Do not be restrained by what your trainer wants, Draya.”

“N, it’s not like that,” Tristan said. “Draya doesn’t want to evolve right now.”

“Yeah, so back off,” Draya said, shifting to Tristan’s other shoulder.

“I did not mean to offend,” said N. He took a few steps back, putting on an easy smile. “It is nice to see that Tristan is observant of your needs.”

“I do try and care for the Pokémon I train,” Tristan said, annoyed at what N was implying otherwise. “So, why are you here? Just looking?”

N gazed around at the displays and the relics they contained. He walked up to the largest in the room, a tall skeleton reproduced in the shape of what the Pokémon may have looked like. If Tristan had to guess, it probably was a Dragon type Pokémon when it was alive. N stared at it for a few moments before shaking his head. “I am searching for the missing pieces to a puzzle that was lost long ago. A museum is a wealth of knowledge and insight.” He turned back around, “And you?”

“I’ve got about ten minutes, but I’m here for a Gym Battle.” Tristan could see the instant change in enthusiasm in N’s face. “What?”

“You force your friends to suffer the harshness of battle?” N asked. “For your own glory? I had thought you were different…”

“Why don’t you come and watch?” Tristan suggested.

“And why would I do that?”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“What do I think then?”

“You think this is only about me,” said Tristan. “You and your talk about wanting to live in harmony with Pokémon, and you don’t even ask the ones right in front of you.” He picked up Cole, carefully avoiding his new long spines. “Take Cole Train here. He’s a feisty little guy who picked fights all the time in his forest. He won too, he’s strong. He finds battling fun. So does Draya. These battles aren’t just for my ‘glory’ as a trainer. It’s good sport, and a way to live and grow with Pokémon. You said you believe that humans and Pokémon can live without us confining them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy some of the things that come with this arrangement.”

“So this is _fun_ for you?” N asked, bending down to Cole’s level. The Curlipede Pokémon blinked and hissed at him. N must have been pleased with the answer. “Well, I would not have believed it… but it seems there truly are many kinds of Pokémon in this world.”

“Trust me, I get where you’re coming from,” said Tristan. He set Cole back on the ground. “In a black and white setting, what we do to Pokémon could seem terrible, but really it isn’t. Not all the time.”

“Very well then,” N said. “I will observe your match this day. I hope it will shed light where I have been kept in the dark.”

“Great, I’ll see you— Oh crap. Two minutes!”

One quick goodbye later, Tristan and his Pokémon made a quick sprint through the halls to where he would begin his second Unova League battle.

—————

[“Ladies and gentlemen and trainers of all denominations, today’s Unova League Gym Battle is about to begin!”] The commentator’s voice boomed throughout the gym over the speaker system as the time came for the battle to commence. Cheers and whoops from the crowd rose up from bleachers that surrounded the battlefield. It seemed to be a sizable crowd from where Tristan was. He felt some of them may have been people taking a break from their museum walks; battles are far more exciting. And alive.

“A bit old-fashioned,” Tristan commented. Cole and Draya waited with him, each standing or balancing straight and calmly beside him like some comically undersized group of bodyguards.

[“In the challenger’s box, we have Tristan Blake from Nuvema Town. He’s carrying one badge already… Will he bring home his second?”]

“I like it,” Draya said. “He puts an exciting spin on things.”

[“He’ll be facing our own ‘Archaeologist with Backbone’, Nacrene Museum’s director and our fine city’s Gym Leader,”] a door on the opposite end of the Gym opened, [“Lenora!”]

A woman of pride and knowledge stepped out into the bright lights of the arena. Her lightly colored clothes contrasted with her dark skin and teal hair, pulled back over her head. She waved at the spectators as she walked towards the center of the battlefield. Tristan left his box on the field and walked to meet her.

“So, you’re confident then, are you?” Lenora asked. The Normal type specialist was giving him an odd look that Tristan couldn’t quite pin down. A frown and crossed arms put on a facade of scrutiny and slight disapproval.

“What makes you say that?”

Lenora unfolded her arms and pointed behind him, “Not many trainers come into my gym showing off the party they plan to use. Unless you think you’re clever and have more Pokémon up your sleeve.”

“I wasn’t trying to be conceited,” Tristan said.

“Well, that’s good.” Gym Leader Lenora leaned close to his face, dropping her voice. “Because I don’t like it when people think they can take advantage of me, or think less of me and show me some restraint. Nor do my Pokémon.”

“We’ll give it our all,” he said, matching her voice. “Count on that.”

“Very good!” Lenora clapped her hand hard on Tristan’s back, making him stumble. “You’ve got the good kind of confidence. Not the arrogant kind that’ll get you into trouble.” She gave him a warm smile and extended her hand. “Count on me to not go easy on you.”

Tristan shook her hand and wished her a good battle. As he got back to his end of the battlefield, Draya spoke up.

“That woman worries me,” she said.

“You’ll be alright, Draya.”

[“And with that folks, we are about to begin! Both trainers are taking their sides once again and will send out their first Pokémon!”] The announcer started his match commentating. [“Challenger Tristan Blake has a Whirlipede and a Snivy, an unusual move for a trainer to have his Pokémon known before the match even begins. What Pokémon will our Leader choose?”]

“You know,” Lenora said, holding up a Poké Ball, “I had already chosen my Pokémon before I saw yours. So I’m sticking to it!”

[“Ball is up!”] the announcer called. Bright white light poured out of the ball and onto the battlefield, shimmering and shifting. It coalesced into a four-legged shape. A white and pink coat of fur, with yellow patterns and tufts of yellow fur on its head. Perky tapered ears swiveled around, taking in the noise of its surroundings. [“And there it is; Deerling!”]

The Gym Leader’s deer Pokémon stamped its hooves on the dirt floor.

“Alright,” Tristan said. He crouched down to his Pokémon at his side, talking to Cole. “Remember what I said. Trust my judgment, and focus on moving.”

Tristan’s Whirlipede twisted his head inside his shell, facing forward, letting one big eye face out each of the sides.

“Great. Go get ‘em, Cole Train!”

Cole rolled a few feet forward onto the battlefield, coming to rest in the center of Tristan’s side of the field.

“You sure you’re not choosing that one because of my own?” Lenora asked.

“This was my plan from the start,” said Tristan. “I promise.”

The referee on the ground level of the Gym raised his hand, looking both trainers in the eye. He brought his hand down in one swift motion, “Begin!”

Right away, Cole began spinning and heading towards his opponent. Lenora’s Deerling stood its ground until the last instant and jumped out of the way, leaving Cole barreling on past where he had hoped to stop.

“Cole, angle left and turn around. It’ll be on your left, about a quarter turn!”

Listening to Tristan’s commands, Cole leaned to the left, making a wide turn around and adjusted his aim. If the enemy was right in front of him, Cole Train himself would be unable to see it. To the left or right at all, he could. Tristan would be relaying what they were doing in front and behind him, leaving Cole to focus on his speed and attacks.

“We’re not letting you run us around,” Lenora chided. “Deerling, Double Kick!”

Holding its ground as Cole came close again, Deerling turned around and bucked with its back legs, the first strike sending the Curlipede Pokémon spinning in place, the second sending it backwards toward the challenger’s side of the battlefield. Toppling end over end, Cole landed on his side after spinning a few more times. As soon as Deerling’s hooves touched back down on the ground, it yelped in pain, kicking them up again and falling on its side.

“Deerling!” Lenora called out. “What’s wrong?”

“It hit Cole Train too hard and in the wrong spots,” said Tristan. His Whirlipede wobbled in its shell, rocking back and forth until he was upright once more. “And now, you’re vulnerable. Cole! Venoshock!”

Taking the opportune moment, Cole began rolling toward the still-downed Deerling. Using a pair of long spines on the outside of his shell, Cole sprung into the air above the Deerling, spinning all the while. He began to excrete a special kind of purple ooze from his shell, splashing the ground beneath him. The young deer was caught in the waves of specialized poison, doing considerable damage after making contact with Cole Train’s barb covered shell.

Landing on the ground in front of Lenora, Cole made a quick retreat back to Tristan’s end of the battlefield just as the referee declared the victor.

[“What an _astounding_ technique by Tristan Blake! Utilizing his Whirlipede’s poisonous body and Venoshock to deal colossal damage to Lenora’s Deerling! Was this match over even before it started?”]

Lenora recalled her Pokémon, “Not bad, son. That’s quite a strategy you thought up.” She pulled out her second Poké Ball, preparing to toss it. “But it was luck. It was luck that my Deerling got poisoned. My plans don’t require luck to take you down. Watchog!”

Her Poké Ball went into the air, bouncing on the dirt floor, and then rebounding back to Lenora’s hand. Where it landed now stood a tall, meerkat with large yellow stripes in its fur. Large, imposing eyes stared angrily at Tristan and his Pokémon. Lenora’s Watchog bared its teeth and growled.

“Round two, begin!”

“Retaliate!” Lenora commanded.

Before Tristan could give a command, the enemy Pokémon had already cleared the distance between it and Cole. Coming directly in front it, Watchog went almost unnoticed. Turning to face the side of Whirlipede saved it from coming in contact with most of the poisonous barbs that covered its shell, leaving Cole to take the brunt of a very strong attack. The Lookout Pokémon rammed right into Cole’s side, flinging the round, curled up Pokémon across the battlefield. Cole landed on his side but didn’t try to right himself this time.

[”Oohh, there goes Tristan Blake’s Whirlipede! A Retaliate attack after a Pokémon is taken out doubles in strength, something Lenora’s Watchog has in excess!]

“Cole, come on back,” Tristan said, recalling his Whirlipede. “You did great.”

“That’s…” Draya said quietly. “That’s just not fair.” She was watching the Leader’s Pokémon calmly walk back to its side of the battlefield. “Too fast. Even _I_ _’m_ not that fast…”

“It’s alright Draya,” Tristan knelt down on the ground, putting a reassuring hand on her head. “You’ll do great, like always. If not, we can try again. But I believe in you.”

“But…” she looked up at him. Legitimate worry was written all over her face. She was starting to breathe hard and fast.

Panic wasn’t something Tristan was used to seeing in her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. She looked like on the verge of tears. Tristan cupped a hand to the side of her face. She calmed down slightly.

“I’m just… I mean nothing! I’ll do it. I _can_ do it” Draya shook her head and stepped out onto the dirt in front of her trainer. “Just gotta beat him and we’re done here.”

“Round three,” the referee said, hand raised.

“That’s the plan,” said Tristan. He could see she was worried. Her breathing quickened further; her tail was shaking. _This is the first time I_ _’ve seen her nervous in a fight…_

“Begin!”

The Watchog sprinted and leaped at Draya the instant the battle started. It flew through the air with frightening speed.

“NO!” Draya ran, dodging as best she could. Lenora’s Watchog pounced on nothing but dirt, but missing did not slow it down very much. It quickly made chase all around the battlefield, trying its best to catch the slippery green snake. It tried snapping at her and physical strikes, but Draya always managed to slip around it.

“Watchog, just hit the little thing! Crunch!”

_She_ _’s afraid of it for some reason,_ Tristan thought. _We faced plenty of Patrats though_ _…_ “Draya! You can’t just keep running! Fight back!” he yelled.

After another dodged attack, Draya turned on her tall opponent. Standing her ground, she waited for it to lunge with its head. Being as quick as she could, she grabbed her opponent by its big cheeks and threw it down, head first into the rocky ground below. The force of the move was impressive, leaving a shallow dent in the dirt floor of the arena, where Watchog’s head now sat.

Draya stepped away from it, wary. She caught her breath, watching for any hint of movement from her enemy combatant. She chanced a look at the referee to see if the match was over.

“Draya! Look out!”

She turned around just in time to see the angry eyes of Lenora’s Watchog staring her in the face. It wheeled around on the spot, spinning and sending a kick right at her belly. It connected, sending her reeling backwards. The little green snake tumbled and skidded across the smooth dirt floor of the Gym. Before she stopped moving, something else seemed to happen to her. A purple field of energy sparked and shifted around her. Then the field shattered like glass.

Where Draya finally stopped, there was no Snivy.

What was lying on the ground where she should have been was about the same height, but longer. Four-legged, fluffy tail, and covered in dark gray and black fur. A tufts of red grew on the forehead and on the ankles, which now lead to paws. Not hands or feet. Two red dots sat above the eyes, which were now bright cyan. Those eyes slowly opened, then locked onto Tristan. They looked afraid.

Tristan stayed right where he was, in his chalked off section of ground on his side of the battlefield. He didn’t move, breathe, or even blink. He saw what happened as clear as everyone else in the Gym did. He had the hardest time believing it though.

[“Oooh, tough luck for our challenger’s second strategy. The cat, or rather the _fox_ , is out of the bag now!”]

Ignoring the announcer’s commentating, Tristan looked around the Gym. Lenora wore a surprised, but respectful look. Her Watchog peered up on its toes, getting a good look at its opponent now. Most of the spectators were out of their seats, cheering, remarking, trying to get a better look at the Pokémon now cowering on the ground. Tristan caught sight of where N was sitting, hand clasped over his mouth in genuine shock.

“Time out!” called Tristan. He looked to Lenora; she crossed her arms and stepped back out of her box. The referee nodded, waving a yellow flag kept in his belt. Tristan ran out to where his Pokémon was lying on the ground. Every step he made closer to her made him infinitely glad she didn’t just bolt and run away. When he got to her, she was shaking visibly, hiding her face underneath her paws, looking down at the ground. Tristan knelt down close to her, attempting to try and pet her now obvious fur, but she flinched and shied away at his touch.

“Draya?” he said softly.

She peeked one bright eye out from behind her paws. “Yes?”

“Is that you?” asked Tristan.

“Yes…” she said.

“Has _this_ ,” he gestured at her, “always been you?”

“Wh— What do you think?” she relented and fully revealed herself to him. She stood up on her four legs and shook herself of the dirt she had gained from the short-lived battle. She kept her head down, refusing to really face him.

Tristan stayed still there for a few moments, thinking silently to himself. Finally he said, “So, do you want to keep going?”

Draya’s head shot up and looked right at him. She started to say something a few times before finding the right words. “What are you saying? Aren’t you… mad?”

Tristan brought a hand over and stroked the back of her new head. “Confused is more like it. But right now, we’re in a Unova League Gym Battle. There’s a badge on the line, and about two hundred people all looking at us. I’d rather talk about what just happened in private, which I can bet you would agree on.”

Draya nodded quickly.

“There now,” he said, smiling. “You look like you can keep going. And while I don’t like the idea of forfeiting the match, I will. If you want to leave right now we will. It’s up to you.”

Draya sat down on the dirt floor. She mumbled to herself, trying to make a decision. She brought up a paw and tugged at her collar a bit, resting just above her large ruff of dark fur. After craning her neck a few times, she managed to get it back into a comfortable position. She glanced over at the Watchog that had hit her. It was eyeing her angrily. Looking eager to finish the battle.

“Yes.” She looked back at Tristan, putting on a determined face. “I’m angry, nervous and I want to get back at that rat for… well… we’ll talk about that. But yeah, I want to beat that thing.”

“Alright then,” he smiled. “You gave that thing quite the hit earlier.”

“I chipped its front teeth. He’s pissed off.”

“That’s my girl,” Tristan said, ruffling the fur on her head.

Tristan walked back to his box with his Zorua close behind. He called to the referee and confirmed they were continuing. Lenora and her Pokémon took their places once again and with the wave of a hand, the battle had begun again.

“Draya,” said Tristan. “I’m going to go ahead and guess you’re not too afraid of taking hits now.”

“Nope. The rat’s going to see what I can really do!”

Without needing any commands, Draya took to her feet and sprinted around the battlefield, gaining ground on her target. Lenora’s Watchog stood where it was, turning its head as it followed Draya’s erratic movements. She got close enough to make an attack, but her opponent was ready. Another kick was sent towards her, but Draya let herself duck right underneath the meerkat’s legs. Behind it, she rammed hard into its back, sending it falling forward onto the ground. Draya jumped onto its back as it tried to right itself pushed it further into the dust.

Watchog whipped Draya off of it with its tail, hopping to its feet. It roared back at Draya, but coughed, giving Draya her moment. She leaped up and sent a flurry of quick scratches at it, hitting its face, throat, and chest. Lenora’s Watchog tried to blindly attack back, but stumbled backwards, falling hard on its back. Draya stepped back—far back, this time—from the downed Pokémon. She decided to rely on her ears this time rather than look away.

“Gym Leader Lenora’s Watchog is unable to continue! The round goes to Zorua and match to Tristan Blake from Nuvema Town!”

[“What. An. _Upset!_ There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. With the shocking reveal of the challenger’s true second Pokémon, he managed to come out on top!”]

Any other day would have left Tristan cheering along with the spectators in the stands. He wasn’t cheering. He was happy, proud even, that he and his Pokémon bested their second Gym Leader. But he was confused and worried apart from whatever N would have to say to him. As he walked to where Draya had collapsed on the ground from exhaustion, his mind was racing. A Zorua, not a Snivy, had visited his house all those days ago and saved him from a month of waiting around.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that quite yet.

“Amazing work, Draya,” he said, smiling. “You really let lose out there. Thank you.”

“Yeah well, I was angry…” said Draya. She looked up at her trainer, relief spread across her face. “I’m glad we’re done though. Let’s go. Now.”

“We just have a few more things to do. Then we can leave,” said Tristan.

“I have to say, you really outdid yourself. Not all of your strategies rely on luck after all.” Lenora stood in front of them, looking much more at ease than she had. “Sorry if I came across a bit rough; battling just puts me in a serious mood.”

“I just took it as sporting banter,” said Tristan. “No harm done.”

“Tristan please, all these people are looking at me.” Draya pulled a bit at his pant leg, trying to get his attention. A few excited spectators were making their ways down from the bleachers and hurrying out onto the battlefield. She called up to him in a loud whisper. “They’re coming over _now_ … hurry.”

“Well you did good, son. Here,” Lenora held out her hand. A purple and gold pin in the shape of a book’s spine sat in her palm. “This Basic Badge is now yours.” She showed no signs of noticing Draya’s persisting worry.

Tristan took his new badge and pinned it to his jacket, just beside his Trio Badge. “Thanks, I—”

“Hey, challenger!” someone said, walking up to him. Tristan didn’t recognize him but he had on a friendly smile. He was followed by a few others. The bunch of spectators all stood around him and Draya. “Is that a real Zorua?”

“I’ve never seen one in person before,” another said.

Tristan tried to shoot down the group’s various requests for trades or pleas for a battle. As he was dealing with a particularly stubborn girl who apparently absolutely must know where he found her, another in the group reached down to Draya. A move that finally pushed the nervous Zorua over the edge.

“ _Get away!_ ”

Draya’s Snarl carried for seconds after her initial warning, reaching volumes that drove all the humans who were in the Gym to cover their ears. The howl echoed for a moment after she stopped, leaving an unsettling silence. Tristan opened his eyes after enduring the ear-spitting noise just in time to see Draya darting past people crowding around the exit.

“No! Draya, stop!”

Tristan tried his best to not knock anyone over as he pushed past the many people exiting the Gym. He had to ignore the many security guards trying to stop him from running throughout the museum. Time and again he would catch just the end of her tail rounding a corner. She was heading outside.

“Wait!” he called, running out into the sunlight. He winced as his eyes tried to adjust to the change in brightness. Passersby looked at him like he had a second head before continuing on their business. Tristan looked all around, up the streets and back into the lobby of the museum. No sign of her.  _Oh no_ _…_ He started to run down the main thoroughfare before a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Tristan.” He looked back to see N standing there, stern expression on his face. “Just when I think you may be someone different, you go and do something like this…”

“Let go! I don’t care what you have to say right now.” He shoved N’s hand off his shoulder.

“You will listen!” N said. “You could see as well as I could that Draya was worried and afraid of people. You ignored her repeated cries for help. Why?”

“I had to talk to Lenora and then I was trying to get those people to leave us alone.”

“While I disagree with the practice on the whole, you could have even put her away in her Poké Ball before all of that,” N put on a very accusing stare. “But you did not.”

“Why do you care so much?” Tristan asked. “Shouldn’t you be encouraging her decision of leaving?”

N sighed, “It isn’t that simple anymore.” He pulled a Poké Ball out of his pocket, “But now is not the time to talk.” Tapping the release button conjured up a Pidove, coming to rest on N’s shoulder. He gave it a friendly smile, “My friend will help us find yours. Zorua and their kin are known for their elusive manner, and we will need the extra eyes to find her.”

“You’re helping me?” asked Tristan.

“Yes, and you are delaying us,” N said. He looked over to the Pidove on his shoulder. “We are going to head west, please help us find a friend of Tristan. Fly fast,” he said. N let the Pidove hop to his opposite forearm and raised his arm up high, sending the gray bird into flight.

“What about my other Pokémon?” Tristan asked. “He’s still injured from the battle.”

“I can tend to your Whirlipede as we move,” N said, extending a hand. “We need to hurry if you ever plan to see your Zorua friend again.”

Tristan gave N an odd look, but decided that he was right. Time was running out. He handed him Cole’s Poké Ball they started down the road. On their way through town, they checked every side alley, every street, and asking everyone they passed if they had seen a lost Pokémon. One that could look like anything in the world.

—————

To Be Continued

—————


	7. Stretch Your Legs

—————

Tristan Blake took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and prepared his throat for the impending burst of sound.

“ _Draya_!” His voice carried far off into the distance. Pidove left their perches in fright and startled Tympole ducked underneath the shallow water’s surface. He coughed over and over again. Tristan rested a hand on a log beside him, steading his stance. That was the fifth time he had tried calling her name like that.

 _She had to have heard me that time_ _… Where is she?_

Exhausted from trudging through the water and mud and calling for his Pokémon, he sat down on the half-submerged log. Tristan looked across the wet and marshy land around him, trying to hide his eyes from the glare that the mid-afternoon sun was sending into his face. He was currently an hour outside of Nacrene City, but his aching muscles continued to argue otherwise. Tall grass that managed to break the shin-high water swayed in the light breeze. Small mounds of dirt dotted the wet landscape like tiny islands, acting as muddy little safe havens for non-aquatic Pokémon and humans alike.

Something off to his left caught his attention, and Tristan spotted N moving across the difficult terrain with what looked like practiced ease. Tristan watched as he would effortlessly come close to wild Pokémon that would otherwise flee from a human’s intrusion and communicate with them in some strange, unknown way. He saw N’s Pidove return and relay some message that was lost to Tristan’s ears, only to be sent off to search another area.

“Your voice is very powerful,” N said as he approached. “I’ve met Loudred who are quieter in conversation. One might lose their voice if they are not careful.”

“What’s— What’s a ‘Loudred’?” asked Tristan, still feeling the sting in his throat.

“It is a Pokémon native to the Hoenn and Sinnoh regions. You do not know it?” N asked, genuine surprise in his voice.

“No, not really.” Tristan coughed again, starting to feel some relief. “I guess I’m not too knowledgeable on foreign Pokémon species, am I?”

N raised an eyebrow at the remark, but said nothing.

“So, no luck, huh?” Tristan asked.

“I’m afraid not,” N told him. He took a seat on the log next to Tristan and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a piece of cloth. “Pidove is searching the area one more time, but I doubt it will change anything.”

Tristan sighed, worry sinking in. “Where does that leave us then?”

“With one easy option, and one that is more troubling. Can you not use Draya’s Poké Ball to retrieve her?” N asked him. “I was almost certain that current models had that feature.”

“Honestly, I’ve already tried. She must be too far away for it to work, or she’s somehow ignoring it.”

“That is unfortunate,” N said.

“But really,” Tristan continued, “it’s for the best. I don’t want to pull her back without warning. I need to see her and talk to her. She has to want to come back on her own.”

N smiled, “That is very considerate of you.”

“I figure it’s a bit overdue, and it might be the only chance I have at getting her back.”

“Well I fear that your chances may be getting away from you; I can see no alternatives. Pinwheel Forest may very well be where she ran off to.”

“But that place is _huge_!” Tristan yelled, hurting his throat again. He took a moment to recover his voice. “We’ll never find her in there…”

Standing up on the log, N offered a hand to help Tristan up to his level. “You surprise me yet again, Tristan Blake. In all that I’ve seen of you, I did not expect to give up on your Pokémon so easily.”

“I’m not!” Tristan protested, jumping up on the log.

“Do you not want to see her again?” N asked.

“I do,” Tristan said. He looked toward the intimidating wall of trees looming in the distance. “It’s just… complicated right now.”

“I can understand you have mixed feelings about what happened,” N said, “but the longer we wait here, the further away she might be. The forest can be unforgiving to travelers at night, I might add.”

“You’re right,” Tristan said. “We need to hurry.”

The two young men marched their way back to the main road that connected Nacrene and Castelia City, taking its path toward the area known as Pinwheel Forest. The paved walkway was a welcome departure from the sloshy and wet ground they had been searching before. Tristan stopped everyone they happened to cross paths with on the road, asking if they knew or saw anything. Too many did not take him seriously.

“A Zorua? Really? They’re practically a myth they’re so rare. Why’d you let yours go?” a passerby said, not thinking much of Tristan’s plea.

“I didn’t! I—” Tristan almost exploded in anger.

“Thank you very much for your time,” N interjected. “We will be on our way.”

The pedestrian went on their way, sending only one last questioning glance back at the two.

“What is _with_ people?” Tristan asked, annoyed at his own anger as well as the careless remark of the traveler.

“The Zoroark family is a very elusive species,” N said as they continued toward the forest’s entrance. “When one is discovered it becomes a popular, high-profile event among humans. In turn, they like to remain hidden to avoid such high amounts of human interaction, as well as avoid predators they might have. Thus, it is a cycle that is rarely ever broken.

“To this day, no one truly knows their native land. So few have been observed in the wild, and as the case often is, ones that are found are solitary. A single specimen hardly makes for an obvious local population.”

“You seem to know a lot about them,” remarked Tristan. “Why is that? You aren’t one of them in disguise, are you?” he joked.

“No, of course not.” N laughed lightly at the notion. “I have, however, had the pleasure of knowing a few in my years.”

“What? Really? Do you still know them? Could they—I don’t know—help us find Draya at all?”

“I think not. They are not with me at the moment and spending time trying to find even more shape-shifting beasts would take quite a bit longer than finding just one.”

“Oh,” Tristan said.

“Not to sound ignorant of your current plight,” N began, “but you were telling me of a few incidents you’ve had with Team Plasma before we split up our search earlier today.”

Tristan grunted in frustration and anger. He felt the weight of his other source of stress come rushing back to him all at once. “I’d forgotten all about them in all this. What else is there to tell?”

“Who and what exactly did you witness?” N asked, eager. “You never said much in ways of specifics.”

“I saw awful people doing awful things to Pokémon. Multiple times. My friend Bianca and I caught a few of them abusing Pokémon outside of Striaton City. After that, my friend Cheren and I tracked a group to some caves off of Route 3, where they had stolen Pokémon from _children_ ,” Tristan looked up and felt panic begin to rise up as he saw the first tinge of sunset tint the sky. “After that, I followed some of them here to Nacrene, but their ring leader managed to get them out of any jail time.”

“‘Ring leader’, you say?” N asked. “Did this individual have a name?”

“Yeah. Ghetsis Harmonia.”

—————

Thin beams of orange sunlight broke through the treetops and speckled the dark forest floor with contrasting pillars of brightness. Humid air hung heavily in the dense woodlands, putting a great deal of strain on the lone human traveler.

Instead of Tristan’s noisy and frantic methods of searching—which he had heard on two separate occasions since they had started their search within Pinwheel Forest—the young man named N moved as silently as he could manage through the area, doing his best to mind his step. He admired and respected the nature around him as he looked for any sign of the renegade Pokémon, Draya.

Looking up, N measured the time he had spent since the second leg of their endeavor began.

 _About an hour_ _… not much of the day left to use. Perhaps… up is the best approach?_

Finding an adequate grip in the trunk of a tree, N employed his long out-of-practice skill of climbing. Modern humans relied on stairs and ladders more than the feeling of rough bark of a tree to get to higher place.

The more he climbed, the easier it became; his body relearning the motions needed to perform the feat. Branches became handholds and steps, and soon he found himself high above the ground. The branch underneath his feet was wide enough for himself and possibly another to stand comfortably on, with a bit of proper balance.

N could see for a great distance on his high perch, watching other beings live their lives in the forest. He spied a floating clump of Cottonee grouped around a tree ahead of him. Taking a few moments to prepare himself, N ran off of the branch he had climbed for and leapt through the air to the neighboring tree. He came to an abrupt stop against the trunk and quickly grabbed a branch to steady himself. Again, he repeated the action of leaping from tree to tree, making his way toward the group of wild Pokémon.

“I say, friends!” N said as he reached his destination, panting slightly from the physical exertion. “May I speak with you?”

The group of Cotton Puff Pokémon all turned and fluttered up to N, asking friendly questions.

“A human?”

“Who are you?”

“I didn’t know humans lived in trees.”

“They don’t. This one is special.”

N calmed the excitable group of Pokémon down as best as he could before he relayed his request.

“I am on a mission, you see? A friend of mine has lost someone dear to him. She is a ‘Zorua’, a Pokémon that can change her appearance. She is lost, perhaps afraid, and could be around here without us even knowing it. If any of you could help me find her, I would be very grateful.”

The cloud of Cottonee turned in on each other, discussing the plea for help in a not-so-private commune. It wasn’t long before they had settled on an answer.

“Sure, green guy!”

“Zorua are hard to find, but we’ll look for one anyway!”

“We’re not very fast, but we can help.”

“Thank you, friends,” N said, smiling. He watched the group split up and drift off in the breeze, spinning and twirling as they look through the forest for something they may not even find.

“Those guys are always so flighty,” a voice next to N’s ear said.

Startled, N turned his head to meet a yellow and green caterpillar sitting on his shoulder. He raised his arm to allow the Sewaddle to have a more comfortable place to sit. The Sewing Pokémon regarded the human’s surprised gaze for a moment, and then took a bite of the fabric of N’s t-shirt.

“Hey, don’t do that,” N scolded.

“Why not? Human-made fabric tastes better than leaves do, you know?”

“Very well then…” N ripped a strip of fabric from the ruined sleeve, allowing the Bug type Pokémon to enjoy a treat. “Say, would you like to help me out with something?”

“I already heard the whole thing,” the Sewaddle said. “Well, most of it. I’ve been on your back since you climbed up that first tree, you know?”

Suddenly curious, N looked over his left shoulder and pulled on his shirt a bit. The entire back of the white garment was now full of bite marks and holes. He chuckled a bit at the sight.

“You are certainly light on your feet,” N said.

“So why’re you looking so hard for this Zorua? She yours, trainer?”

“No, I’m helping a friend look—” N caught himself, thinking on his choice of words.

 _For how long have I considered Tristan a friend? I said as much to those Cottonee, as well_ _…_

“Yeah?” the Sewaddle spoke up, getting N’s attention. “‘Helping a friend look’…?”

“Right… My friend and the Zorua in question had a… disagreement of sorts, and she ran away from him. Despite myself, I feel that they should remain together. I find the notion hard to believe, yet I do all the same.”

“What’s so hard about that?” Sewaddle asks, curious. “Humans and Pokémon get along okay all the time. Are these two special?”

“You see, my friend, that is where you might be right.”

Scanning the forest area around him, N began to move once again, explaining his worries and thoughts to his new companion. As time went on, N grew tired of walking and leaping in the trees. As he carefully made his way back down to the ground, his mind alighted on an idea.

“I have a favor of you, my new friend. One that I don’t ask of you lightly.”

“What’s that?”

—————

Elsewhere in the forest, Tristan was silently fighting himself. A whirlwind of questions spun around in his head.

_Where is she?_

He was sweating hard now. He had been running through the dense forest since he and N started their search, but now he was slowly stomping his way through the grass and other such plant life that grew around the trunks of the trees. Any wild Pokémon he came across fled in fear as he loudly stomped by their dens and homes.

_Why did she lie to me all this time?_

That question had been bouncing around in his head from the moment he saw Draya tumble to the ground in her true form earlier that day.

 _Why didn_ _’t I see this before?_

He at least suspected the answer to that one; information in his Pokédex on Zorua and Zoroark claimed that their ability to cast illusions were unparalleled. They completely fooled anyone and anything. Tristan distinctly remembered that his Pokédex had identified Draya as a Snivy when she had first appeared. She always appeared from her Poké Ball under the cover of her illusion, never once letting it slip.

_Did anyone else know? Did Professor Juniper suspect anything? Did Cheren?_

Tristan thought back to the phone call he had with his friend a few days ago. Cheren noticed fairly easily that Draya hadn’t been using any Grass type moves or techniques. He had wondered to Tristan if there was something wrong with her.

 _Yes, actually. She was a_ Dark type _all along. You_ _’re right again, Cheren._

Tristan stopped himself, finding the ground beneath his feet had gotten progressively muddier as he went along. Continuing forward a ways more revealed a shallow creek. He hoped that following the water might give him any higher chance of finding Draya. It might have not been a large chance, but it was one he was willing to take. Shoes could be cleaned later.

 _He knew. If he didn_ _’t know for sure, then he must’ve at least had an idea. Dammit Cheren, why didn’t you say something?_

He took a bad step and slipped on a slick, mud-covered rock, sending Tristan flailing into the muddy water to his left. The creek was shallow enough to not submerge himself completely, leaving Tristan sitting in cold, waist-deep water. He sat still and focused on himself for a moment in the gentle current. The weight of his drenched clothes soon urged him to stand up, however. Tristan looked down at his mud-covered self.

 _He did. He did say something, but I didn_ _’t listen. I just got angry with him. I didn’t want anything to be “wrong” with my Pokémon, so I just denied it and hoped she would be okay; that it would all work out. This isn’t Cheren’s fault. He was just being himself._

Tristan walked up out of the muddy creek and checked if anything had gotten wet that shouldn’t have. His Pokédex was in the front jacket pocket, which managed to stay dry. As he went over his possessions, he came across his two Gym Badges that were pinned on his jacket. He had decided he wanted to display them like Bianca, rather than hide them away in a case like Cheren. He had moved them to the outside of his jacket, just below the collar. Some mud had splashed onto them.

 _Maybe Draya was just being_ her _self._

Unpinning his two badges, Tristan took a moment to look at them resting in his hand. The longer he stared at them, the angrier he became. He clenched them in his fist until it hurt.

 _No she wasn_ _’t. That’s the whole point. She lied about who she even was! She led me on the whole time! These mean nothing!_

Turning back to the muddy bed of the creek, Tristan pulled his arm back and prepared to throw his ill-gotten badges into the dirty water. He froze, hesitation holding him back. He breathed heavily, trying to find the strength to throw the two metal pins away.

“I can’t,” he finally said out loud.

Taking a deep breath, he put the badges in the slow moving current of the creek, rinsing them of the mud and dirt.

 _These aren_ _’t just about Draya and I._

He pinned the clean Trio Badge back onto his jacket, remembering Cheren and Bianca fighting alongside him. The Basic Badge, the one he had won just that day was thanks to _both_ of his Pokémon. Cole deserved it as much as he did. Or Draya.

Tristan carefully made his way back up to dryer land, shaking the mud from his pants and shoes as he went.

“For everyone else, not just me,” Tristan said. “I hope you come back to me. To us.”

—————

“So, you _don_ _’t_ trust him? Sewaddle asked.

N sighed, many thoughts running though his head. “It’s not only that; I also worry about him. I want to believe that what I’m being told is the truth but I have my doubts, as much as it pains me to admit…”

The human casually made his way through the ever-darkening forest. His Grass and Bug type companion rested on his head, having previously agreed to not attempt to eat the human’s headwear.

“Well, if things work out like you say, I guess I can help you out,” Sewaddle says. “I bet things outside of this forest are big and bright and interesting, you know?”

“The wide world is a magnificent place, to be sure. You would enjoy it, I believe.”

“Cool! When do I start?” Sewaddle asked, excited.

“As soon as we—” N paused, his eye having caught something. He crouched down next to the base of a tree, examining the trunk.

Sewaddle leaned forward on his perch, trying to see what his human friend was looking at. “What’s the matter?”

“This,” N said, pointing. A section of the bark on the tree was discolored, shining in a magnificent turquoise. Testing his theory, N took hold of a piece of it and tore it from the tree. The piece of bark in N’s hand instantly returned to its natural color while the spot on the tree’s trunk did not change at all. The bark he had torn off was still there in its unnatural color.

“We’re close,” N said, smiling.

“What? How can you tell?”

“That was an illusion, a stray one. I’ve seen it happen like this before. An untrained Zorua or Zoroark sometimes leave these tiny little mirages in their wake. Our target is emotional and afraid; she’s being clumsy.”

Picking up his pace, N—and the Sewaddle—began to follow the subtle trail of out-of-place colors and misshapen objects. The shimmering errors in the forest began to fade away and became scarce. N started to worry that he would soon lose the trail and broke into a run.

“You are here!”

N broke into a clearing; a light slope leading down to a small pool of clear water. A steep hill rose over the opposite shore of the small pond. Soaking their feet in the water, and looking very surprised at the sudden intrusion into her once private spot, a young woman sat on dry land looking back at N. Her bright blue eyes and dark colored skin contrasted one another, along with her plain white blouse and skirt.

“Um, hi?” the girl asked, waving up at N gently.

“Oh,” N said, disappointed. He looked around the immediate area but was unable to find any more illusory artifacts. _I was so sure of it_ _… did I miscalculate?_

“Can I help you?” she asked him. She was standing now, barefoot in the grass.

“Actually yes,” N said, putting aside his annoyed mood. He approached the girl, “I’m looking for a lost Pokémon. A Zorua. She may be in disguise, hiding herself as something that she is not. Have you seen anything unusual in the area?”

“No, I don’t think so…” she said. “I’m sorry to hear that she’s lost. Is she your Pokémon?”

“A friend of mine lost her, actually.” N sat down on the ground and took off his hat, letting the Sewaddle rest in his lap. “The trouble is that it is getting to be late, and I worry that we may have to abandon our search for the evening. My friend and I have not crossed paths for some time… I wonder if he has found anything.” N tore off another shred of his shirt for the Sewaddle to eat before asking the girl, “What of you?”

“I’m sorry?” the girl responded.

“What are you doing so far from the road?” N looked over her attire, “I see that you do not have any Pokémon with you. Are you sure you will be alright this far in the forest at dusk?”

The girl hesitated to respond, playing with her long black hair. She took a seat on the ground next to N and sighed, “I just needed some space; some place quiet to relax, you know?”

“I do know.”

“I just— I had the worst day. The absolute _worst_! I couldn’t face going back… home. So I ran off and found this quiet place.”

“And misplaced your shoes, apparently,” N noted as he observed the area.

The girl chuckled a bit, smiling. “Just one of those days…”

“And what will you do when the day is over?” N asked. He looked to the sky and saw the few remaining remnants of daylight disappearing, the forest darkening around them by the minute.

“I don’t know,” she said. The girl dipped her toes in the water, making ripples on the surface. “Things at home got… complicated…”

“I see,” N said. He gave her a knowing smile, leaving her to question his stare in silence.

“Wh—What?”

“Draya,” N said, and the girl visibly jumped. “For the sake of the future, you are going to have to learn how to cope with what you’ve done.”

“But… I.. I didn’t do anything wrong!” she complained, no longer hiding her identity. Draya’s human eyes shifted to their natural, more feral state while the rest of her illusion held solid. “I was just doing what I’ve always done! It’s not my fault that things changed! It’s— mnn…”

“It’s what?” N asked. He stood up and brushed the dirt from his pants.

Draya stayed on ground, clenching her fists in frustration. She brought her legs up to her chest and pouted.

N sighed, “If you cannot even talk to me, how can you explain yourself to—?”

A sudden yell broke their private discussion.

N managed to see, just before he hit the water, Tristan tumble down from the top of the slope that lead into the small pool of water that they had been sitting beside. The next moment after the resulting splash was met with another one, as Draya’s human form leapt into the water after him.

“I swear to the Alpha…” Tristan said, submerged up to his neck. “If I fall into something wet or muddy one more time today…”

“Are you okay?” Draya all but yelled down at him. Tristan’s confused look didn’t delay him from grabbing her outstretched hand.

“No, I’m alright,” he said as he rose out of the water. He looked over to N for some sort of explanation, but he was only given a smug smile in response.

“Oh my god…” Draya said, looking at Tristan. His clothes were soaking wet, covered and caked in mud in more than a few places, and his face had a few cuts and scrapes across the cheek, bleeding slightly. Draya lifted a hand up to his face, wiping away some of the grime away. “You went through so much trouble…”

“Uhh, N?” Tristan asked, tilting his head away from the girl with the wet clothes and strange looking eyes. “Who is this girl?”

“I’m sorry about today,” she said. Draya’s human form walked backwards out of the water and shifted back to her true, smaller self. Her fur lay flat and clung to her body, dripping wet. Her ears were low, “I’m ready to go back now…”

Tristan stood there speechless for a few moments. He didn’t pay any attention to what N was doing, what he might have said, or that his shoes and socks were now completely soaked through. He only stared calmly at his Pokémon as she stared back at him with those icy blue eyes.

“Can… Can I be put in my Poké Ball, Tristan?” Draya asked. “I… I’m pretty tired.”

Tristan snapped out of his daze and lazily grabbed her plain red and white ball. “Sure, Draya. You can come out whenever you want, like always.”

“Yeah…” she nodded. Draya’s form became a mass of red light and zipped into the capture sphere quietly.

Tristan looked at the ball in his hand for a lingering moment before stowing it beside Cole’s on his belt. He trudged his way out of the small pond towards N. “Care to tell me how long you two were chatting?”

N put a hand on Tristan’s shoulder, anticipating his coming anger. “I assure you, my friend, I was unaware of who she was when I came across her. I had only deduced it myself just before you so conveniently stumbled upon us here.”

Tristan sighed, relaxing his stance. “Okay… I’m too tired to care. She’s back now, that’s what matters.”

“True, true. But better still,” N said to him as he held out a collapsed Great Ball. “This is a Sewaddle that I met while looking for Draya. He’s a very curious spirit in need of seeing the world. Will you take him with you on your quest?”

“You’re trusting me with a Pokémon that _you_ caught?” Tristan asked, surprised.

“I think that today is evidence enough that you care deeply for Pokémon,” N said with a smile. “You just might be what a human _should_ be to a Pokémon.”

Tristan reluctantly took the blue and red ball from N’s hand. “Thank you, but wouldn’t he be better off with you?”

“I’m afraid not. The plans for my future don’t include raising Pokémon, not in the way that someone like you could.”

N offered to lead him back to the road that made its path through Pinwheel Forest. When they arrived, N bid farewell to Tristan and made his way north toward Castelia City, leaving Tristan with a handshake. Tristan made the rest of his way back to Nacrene City alone as evening became nighttime.

—————

After he shed wet, dirty clothes and took a long, hot shower, Tristan stood alone in his hotel room’s bathroom. He stared at himself in the steamy mirror, fully dressed. He wasn’t waiting on anything but himself; he was just delaying the impending and inevitable confrontation. He knew Draya was in the room just on the other side of the bathroom door, probably just as anxious as he was.

Maybe as afraid as he was.

_What am I afraid of? Her? Myself?_

He wiped his face with his hand, rubbing his eyes.

_Enough stalling._

Tristan tried to not be startling or loud, but opening the bathroom door seemed to snap himself into a new level of clarity, like being suddenly splashed with water—something Tristan hoped in the back of his head didn’t happen to him for at least a week. City light streamed into the dimly lit room through the lightly colored curtains. He didn’t bother glancing at the clock, already knowing it was late. He was determined to get things settled tonight.

Draya was sitting up on the bed, looking up at him. Her eyes didn’t betray any sort of emotion or worry; she was focused on Tristan as he moved around the room, watching as he checked the room’s door and made sure it was locked. She made room on the edge of the bed as he went to sit down next to her. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, saying nothing. Draya looked up at him as he stared on at the wall, expecting him to speak.

“Come on!” she finally yelled. “Say something!”

“I missed you,” Tristan said quietly, lowering is head, but still not looking at her.

“You… wait, what?” Draya backed up on the bed further. “Really?”

Tristan nodded as he finally looked at her. “I was afraid that you had run away for good. You were my first Pokémon, Snivy or not. You’re special to me.”

Draya felt her fur stand on end at his words.

“That being said,” Tristan stood up from the bed and crossed his arms. His expression hardened, letting anger slip into his words. “I’m going to have to ask that you explain yourself to me. Right now.”

“Don’t talk down to me," Draya said defiantly. “I’m not the one who should… well… I guess I _should_ explain some things…”

“Before we start, let me say that I am sorry about what happened at the gym,” Tristan said. “I should have paid attention to you when you were feeling uncomfortable. It was all my fault.”

Draya sat back down on the bed, feeling glad to hear him say that. Despite that, she hoped that their conversation would shift to something else soon. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Well, for starters, you were lying to me the entire time we’ve been together. Let’s go talk about what’s real about you.”

Draya did her best to not let his condescending tone bother her.

“Well, if you want to get _technical_ , everything I’ve said to you was true. I don’t—or didn’t, I guess—like humans. My family didn’t like humans. I wound up on my own because of my own stupid curiosity. Anything else?”

“Why were you a Snivy when you showed up at my house? Why did you come to me at all?”

“I was tired of living on my own for so long. I thought that if I used some other image rather than my own, I could—I don’t know—meet someone who didn’t like me just because of what I am. I didn’t want to be treated like some trophy.” Draya said, looking away. “Plus, I saw plenty of trainers from that town that had Snivy. I can mimic those in my sleep, literally.”

“But you trusted me at least a little bit, right? You could see that I cared about you, didn’t you?”

“What do you want from me? You can’t expect me to give up a lifelong fear and prejudice just like that. It’s not like you were ever totally alone either; it’s not just you. You’re around humans day and night some days! It’s just how I am around humans; I hide!”

Tristan could hear his XTransceiver ringing on the nightstand. He ignored it. “Did you ever plan on showing me… this? Did you ever think you could suspend your deep-seeded beliefs just for a moment and really trust me?”

“You think that never crossed my mind?” Draya yelled up at him. “In that cave, after fighting Team Plasma, I almost evolved. It would’ve broken my hold on my illusion there and then! I almost ran away from you back then, but you stopped it from happening. Ever since then, I beat myself up every night, trying to bring myself to just… let it all go! I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know if I could handle it!”

“Handle what?”

“You rejecting me!” Draya blurted out. “I’m not stupid, you know… I know some part of you was disappointed when you saw that I wasn’t a Snivy. I saw it on your face earlier today. I lost one family already and I couldn’t handle the idea that I could lose another!”

“So you decided to pile on lie after lie instead of talk to me about it.” Tristan said. “That’s a good plan.”

“You know what?” Draya growled as she worked a paw underneath her Everstone collar. She pulled it off and flung it across the room. “Since we’re doing this… finally putting all of our cards on the table, you need to understand something! It’s not just the fear of losing a family, I—”

Draya’s words caught in her throat as she doubled over and fell over onto her side. The pent up evolution energy had finally caught up to her. She began to glow bright white, her body convulsing and shifting. Draya tumbled off the bed and out of Tristan’s sight, landing on the floor as her form grew and changed. She caught her breath as the energy inside her died down. Draya kept her new body on all fours, staring at the carpet, until she felt the urge to stand up on her two hind legs. She stood upright and looked to Tristan, now a tall Zoroark. She swayed on her unfamiliar legs and caught herself on the wall.

Tristan moved forward to steady her on her feet, gently holding her by her shoulders. “Draya, are you alright?” he said, looking at her new form. “You… you look…”

“Whth?” Draya tried to speak, but her new mouth fumbled awkwardly with her words. She opened her mouth and tried to adjust to her new jaw and teeth. “Wheeert? Waaah— Whaaatie… What?” Draya’s voice had changed in the evolutionary process, deepening and maturing into what Tristan recognized as an adult’s.

“Okay, there we go.” Draya said, confidence in her new voice. “I was wondering what this would feel like.”

She looked over her new body, now stable on her two feet, flexing some of her new muscles. She flashed Tristan a grin to show off her new set of teeth and spun on the spot, her large mane of red fur whipping around her new body.

“So, how _do_ I look?” she asked, putting her new hands on her hips.

“You look… very different now,” Tristan choked out. He found himself unable to look away from her bright blue eyes.

“Uh-huh…” Draya said, pulling Tristan by the hand to sit back down on the bed. “Good different, or bad?”

“Definitely… not bad,” Tristan said.

“So, did you still want to talk?” Draya asked.

“Y-Yeah, let’s keep talking.” Tristan looked away for a moment. “You wanted to put all our cards on the table, right?”

“All of ‘em.”

“Well, if I hadn’t stopped— all this,” he gestured at Draya’s newly evolved self, “from happening back in the caves, what would you have done?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Draya said. “I knew I was evolving and so did you. I knew I couldn’t hold the illusion during the process, and I didn’t have any idea what a Snivy looked like after it evolved, so I just panicked and screamed at you to leave me alone until I was done.” She looked at him warmly, “But you wouldn’t abandon me.”

“Of course not,” Tristan said. He put a hand on her shoulder, gently petting her fur. “I would never.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. “Anything else, you sweet-talker?”

“I— Well, uh,” Tristan stumbled on his words again. “Well, here, take a look.” He moved away from Draya and reached for his Pokédex that was sitting on the nightstand next to his XTransceiver—it was ringing again. “Snivy evolve into ‘Servine’, and then into ‘Serperior’,” Tristan explained. He pulled up entries for the advanced stages of a Snivy’s life-cycle, showing Draya as many details as he could think of.

“I think—you know, in the future—you should disguise yourself as these over time, you know?” he said.

“Why bother?” Draya asked. “I’ve got Snivy down pretty well already.”

“Because Pokémon trainers and their Pokémon grow and become stronger. Right now, I guess N is the only person who knows I stopped you from evolving. I don’t think people at the gym battle cared to notice after… well,” Tristan tried to avoid the subject to no avail.

“After I was shown off and ignored by my trainer?” she finished for him.

“Yeah, that.”

“All cards on the table,” Draya reminded him.

“Okay. My point is, it’d be suspicious if you continued to grow and get stronger but not show it. If a Snivy got much more powerful than you’ve already shown, people could start asking questions. Cheren’s already started to wonder why you never used any Grass type attacks yet, and he never forgets anything.”

“Oh… I guess you’re right,” Draya said, looking down at her new clawed hands. “So, you want to help me to convince everyone else I’m still a Snivy—or one of the others?”

“Well, yeah,” Tristan said. “Unless you want to show off your true self to everyone from now on—”

“No, I don’t!” she said suddenly. Draya calmed down quickly, catching her breath. “Sorry… I just… today was too much…”

Tristan leaned over to her and gently wrapped his arms around her shivering body. He rested his head next to hers, holding her close.

“I know. I’m sorry. That’s why I want to make this work from now on. You and me,” Tristan said, stroking her thick mane of red fur.

“You and me, huh?” Draya said, pushing away from him slightly. “I like the sound of that.” She brought her head up even with his, closing her eyes.

“Draya… what are you doing?”

“Something I picked up from watching humans,” she said quietly.

Draya put her new clawed hands on Tristan’s shoulders and pushed him backwards onto the bed. She then did her best to mimic an act she had seen human couples do many times before. She kept her eyes closed and pressed her mouth against his, forming an awkward kiss. She fought the urge to see Tristan’s reaction, but she thought she could feel his shock resonate across his face.

When she finally broke the forceful kiss, she licked her lips and sat up in Tristan’s lap. “There, that’s everything.”

“Wh—What was?” Tristan asked, in shock.

“I said I wanted to put everything out there in the open. I told you before, I wasn’t only worried about losing another family. I was terrified I’d lose _you_. You wanted honesty, right?”

“I didn’t think… that this would be something you’ve been hiding,” Tristan said.

“Did you… not like it?” she asked, quietly.

“No, I did!” Tristan blurted out. “I do. It’s just… one big surprise after another with you.”

“Well, how about you take a turn?” she asked, eyes half lidded. She placed her clawed hands on his chest, leaning over him, and lowered her face back down to his. “How about it? Let’s find out what you like.”

Before Tristan could respond to what Draya was offering, someone with a very familiar voice called into his hotel room.

“Hey, Tristan! Are you awake?” Bianca’s piercing voice carried through the door as if it weren’t even there. The young girl knocked hard on the locked door four times. “Come on, let’s go! We’re here!”

Draya and Tristan scrambled off of the bed, looking at each other. Draya held one clawed finger to her mouth, staring intently at Tristan before nodding toward the door. She frantically grabbed Tristan’s Pokédex and tapped away at the device.

He shakily walked to the door and took his time unlocking it, hesitating before opening the door. His mind was running at a dizzying pace, trying to process the past few minutes. When he finally opened the door, he felt a weight appear on his shoulders. A long, slender green mass coiled down his arm, gripping it firmly. A Servine looked into his eyes and winked, the red iris shimmering to blue for an instant.

“Draya!” Bianca said the instant she could see into the room. “Look at you! You evolved!”

“I sure did,” Draya nodded, smiling with her fake face.

Cheren pushed the door open the rest of the way, taking charge and the attention of both humans and the Pokémon in disguise. His serious expression managed to snap Tristan out of his panicked stupor.

“Tristan,” he said. “We need to go. Now.”

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	8. The Calm

—————

Two o’clock.

Tristan dimmed the screen of his XTransceiver, annoyed that only a few minutes had passed since he last checked the time. He remembered that his ticket said that they would arrive at the Castelia City station at five in the morning, another three hours from now. The sound of the bus driving down the silent night road droned on around him. Tristan closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

He wanted to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him.

Too much had happened, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that even more was going to happen.

—————

 

_Five Hours Ago_ _…_

“Cheren, wait up! We don’t have to run!”

Tristan picked up the pace and struggled to keep up with his friend as they ran down the sidewalk. Bianca was behind him, panting heavily.

“Y-Yeah… Come on, give us a break…” she whined.

“We can rest when we get there!” Cheren yelled back.

As he sped up and turned a corner, Tristan was glad it was late at night; less people to see a couple of fools running down the streets after their friend the better. On Tristan’s back, further weighing down an already overstuffed backpack, Draya—bright green and leafy—clung on tightly.

“What’s with the rush?” the Servine-looking Draya asked Bianca. “Do you know?”

“He told me some things,” said Bianca, grateful that Tristan slowed down to keep even with her. “He’s found out some information about Team Plasma. But we need to be in Castelia City by tomorrow, or it’ll be for nothing, at least he says so anyway.”

“Of course he says so,” Tristan says, under his breath.

He and Bianca slowed to a walk when Nacrene City’s bus station came into view. Cheren was nowhere to be seen, so the two decided to head inside. Tristan spotted his black-haired friend already in a one-sided conversation with a sales clerk, with Cheren spitting out question after question at the clearly overwhelmed older woman behind the counter.

Tristan motioned for Bianca to follow him and they went over to the many rows of empty chairs in the room. Setting his hastily packed backpack in an empty seat—with Draya now curled up in her own—he sat down in an uncomfortable plastic seat. Despite the rigidness of the chair, Tristan felt instantly relieved to give his legs a rest.

“That… was… rough…” Bianca said, breathing heavily. She sat in the seat next to Tristan, holding a cramp in her side. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“What’s this Team Plasma business?” asked Tristan. “He told you about that at least, right?”

“No, not really. He pretty much just told me what I said on the way here. He said he didn’t want to have to explain everything again once we met up with you.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, chuckling a bit. “That’s Cheren for you; never a wasted effort.”

“And for good reason,” Cheren said as he came up to his friends. He set his own belongings down on the ground and sat beside them in front of his two friends. “I wouldn’t have gotten our lead otherwise.”

“Uh, you want a seat?” Tristan asked. “I can scoot over—”

“No thanks, our bus will be here in ten minutes anyway.” Draya sat herself up in her seat and glared at Cheren, to which he only looked back at her, uninterested expression on his face. “What?”

The Zoroark in disguise looked around the interior of the bus station, content that the only other humans in the room were far enough away so they wouldn’t hear.

“Would you mind telling us why you dragged us from our nice, comfy room in the middle of the night?” Draya said in a hushed voice. It was more an angry demand than a question.

“It’s okay,” Tristan spoke up. “He had a good reason to, remember?”

Draya gave him an annoyed, knowing look. She stuck out her thin tongue and pouted back into her seat.

“Yeah Cheren,” said Bianca, “tell us what you found out.”

“Gladly,” he said, smiling. “First of all; Tristan, Bianca… and Draya… I’m sorry for dragging you all into this on a moment’s notice. I can understand how inconvenient it might have been.”

“I doubt it…” Draya muttered.

“But,” Cheren continued, “I promise you this is important, and I wouldn’t be taking this as serious as I am without reason. Now, between the three—or four of us, Draya—we have encountered Team Plasma a total of four times—”

“Five. I saw one of their presentations at Accumula Town before I met up with you guys,” Tristan said. At Cheren’s flat stare, he quickly apologized for interrupting him.

“Right…” Cheren began again, “ _Five_ times we’ve encountered these people. Apart from their televised and seemingly nice public appearances, they’ve been nothing but trouble. Stealing Pokémon, hurting an innocent Munna—Bianca’s Munna—and seemingly able to get off without so much as a simple arrest from the police. Now, why is that?”

“For one thing, their ringleader is clearly a bigshot,” Tristan suggested. “He bailed out the group of thugs I had cornered before the cops even arrived. He’s clearly got some clout and enough money to throw around to run damage control for all of his… What, underlings? Followers?”

“Right. But it’s not just that—they haven’t been caught doing anything very serious yet.”

“Bullshit they haven’t!” Tristan yelled suddenly. He looked at the shocked expressions of his friends. “Sorry, but that’s the truth. Brutalizing innocent Pokémon and stealing from children isn’t ‘serious’ enough for you?”

“Oh don’t worry, it is for me,” Cheren said, putting his hands up, “but for the police, they don’t have any evidence of that. _We_ gave those kids back their Pokémon before we tried to turn them in. Doing that, we ruined what little evidence we had that it even happened. The children were too afraid to talk to the police afterwards too. They thought they would get in trouble.”

Tristan recalled his experience with the local police force, and how uncooperative they were. “So what do you suggest then?”

“While you were here, Bianca and I were going over the things we confiscated from the grunts—that’s what I call the low level members. Anyway, I took this from one of them,” he pulled out a small, palm sized electronic device. Its back plate was emblazoned with Team Plasma’s insignia. “This had its most recent email still up when I got a chance to read it; since then, the thing hasn’t worked at all. Moving on, the email said that tomorrow, in Castelia City, there are three different missions that Plasma is set to carry out. I plan on stopping all three, and bringing the police’s attention to _that_.”

“What makes you think it’ll work?” Bianca asked. “Is what they’re planning that bad?”

“Perhaps. One in particular caught my eye because of how vaguely it was worded. Another is just a ‘shipment’ being processed in a location somewhere in the city, and the last one is just one of their public demonstrations they’re holding in the city’s Central Plaza. The point is that if we bring these to the public’s attention in a city as large as Castelia, and they get found to be illegal, then we’ll have them. These all take place sometime tomorrow afternoon, going by what I read.”

Tristan yawned. “Then why are we getting on a bus _now_ when these aren’t even going to be happening until later on in the day?”

“I’m worried that our recent attempts to have them arrested might’ve gotten us noticed, in a bad way. If so, and we’re seen entering the city, we might be tipping them off that we’re coming, or maybe worse, Team Plasma might try and take us out. So,” Cheren said as he handed a bus ticket to each of his friends, “we’ll be getting into town at the least likely time to be spotted.”

“Five A.M.?” Tristan groaned. “Really?”

“I recommend, for all of us, to get some sleep on the ride there.” Cheren stood up. “Our bus is here.”

By the time Tristan had even stood up, Cheren had already made it halfway to the door. Bianca shouldered her belongings, and looked to see that Tristan wore a newly acquired Basic Badge.

“Hey, you beat the Gym Leader!” she said, smiling. “How was the battle?”

Subconsciously, Tristan looked over at Draya, still lying on the seat she was sitting in. The look of fear and worry on her face seemed to scream: “Please don’t tell.”

“It was easy,” Tristan said. “Cole did most of the work. I wouldn’t bother looking up any highlights.”

—————

 

_Now_ _…_

Tristan blinked, his eyes needing a break from staring at the same spot for the past twenty minutes.

He looked to his left, taking the opportunity to look out the window. They were on the largest bridge in the Unova region, the Skyarrow Bridge. A sight that he assumed would have looked more impressive during the day. Dull white railing and support lines sped past the glass, making a faint sound as they zoomed by him. Cloud cover made the water below him look featureless and black.

Glancing down, his eyes fell on Draya—his Zoroark.

Zoroark, not Servine.

She was a Zorua, not a Snivy.

That _kiss_.

So many things that had been hidden came to light about Tristan’s mysterious Snivy. The most pressing of which came within the past twenty-four hours.

She was still in her Servine form, curled up in a neat coil of green scales and leaves on the seat next to him. Tristan knew full well how large—and heavy—and very soft—she really was. He tentatively reached a hand out, probing the space he suspected she really occupied. His hand felt only the back of the seat; the smooth fabric and seams felt authentic.

Tristan shook his head to keep his mind from reeling at the possible mechanics at play with her illusions. They could make him see, hear, feel, and smell anything, a fact that unsettled him on some deep level.

Falling asleep seemed less and less likely for him as the night dragged on.

Across the aisle from him, an overhead light flicked on, causing his eyes to recoil at the sudden brightness. Tristan thought he heard Draya wake up, but she merely murmured in her sleep.

A man sat in the now-illuminated seat, scribbling on a sheet of blank paper. He wore simple looking clothes; a long sleeved shirt, no jewelry or headwear to be seen. His most eye-catching feature was his large head of brown, curly hair. Tristan couldn't’ tell if it was natural, or if he had it done that way.

What caught Tristan’s eye was what the man was scribbling on the page. At first glance, they seemed like random lines, drawn at random intervals in random places. At times, the artist would make a few strokes on a clean sheet of paper, then flip it over to a new page entirely, as if unsatisfied at the first few attempts. Others, he would spend minutes on a single page, an image almost becoming clear, before starting new once more.

It wasn’t until the eighth or ninth new sketch that the curly haired man noticed he had an audience.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper, putting his pencil down. “Is my light bothering you?”

“No, no,” Tristan replied, just as loud. “I can’t sleep anyway. You don’t mind that I was watching you, do you?”

The artist chuckled, “Oh not at all.” He put his sketchbook down on his lap and extended a hand, “My name’s Burgh, and just to clear it up, I _love_ when people watch me work. It’s like letting them get a look into the _real_ me.”

Tristan shook Burgh’s hand, trying to not make an amused face at his overly enthusiastic response. “I’m Tristan,” he said. “Do you normally do that? Do so many little sketches and just ignore them?”

“More than I’d like to count,” said Burgh. “You see, my mind thinks and feels one way, then my hands take me in their own direction. Sometimes, they don’t quite match up, and what I draw doesn’t match what I’m feeling. So, when at first you don’t succeed, and so on.” Burgh smiled as he flipped through his failed sketches. “And I wouldn’t say I ignore them. They’re all creations by my hand, and thus, art. In their own way. No matter how many lines something is, if it has meaning behind it, it can _mean_ something.”

“That’s…” Tristan mulled over his words, “really something.”

“So, why can’t you sleep?” Burgh asked with a quizzical look on his face.

Tristan was a little shocked to see such genuine interest. “I, well, um…”

“Fascinating,” Burgh said.

“Hey, it’s hard to explain,” Tristan defended himself.

“Oh, Tristan, I know. You wouldn’t believe how many pieces I’ve made over the years could be described as ‘Well, you know… stuff and things…’ You can imagine the looks I get.”

Tristan smiled, laughing quietly as he can.

“I’ll bet.”

“So?” Burgh pressed, still eager to discuss what was keeping Tristan from sleeping. He began to sketch again, taking a few seconds to look back at Tristan to let him know he still had his attention. “I’m a stranger on a bus; how likely is it that you’ll ever see me again? What do you have to lose? More sleep you’re not getting? There’s clearly something bothering you, and you’re not sure if you can put it to words, am I right?”

Tristan turned back in his seat and stared at the back of Cheren’s seat ahead of him. He could see a black head of hair resting on Bianca’s shoulder between the gap of the seats. A great deal was on his mind and keeping him awake, but how much could he talk about and feel comfortable discussing? Their impending move against Team Plasma didn’t seem to be on his mind too much. It was something he _wanted_ to do. As his mind came around again, it drifted to where it lingered just before.

Draya.

“Like I said,” Tristan started, Burgh looked up from his page at the sound of his voice. “It’s really… complicated, and kind of confusing.”

“I’ve heard those words before,” said Burgh, smiling. “Love troubles?”

Tristan hesitated for a moment before answering him.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Burgh flipped to a new page of paper. “Is she—or he, I don’t point fingers—on this bus, perhaps?”

“You sure you don’t already know what’s bothering me?” Tristan asked.

Burgh simply smiled and waved at him to continue.

“Yes,” Tristan said, “she is. In fact, it’s become more of a… love triangle somehow. Or a square… it’s complicated.”

“Well, let’s focus on what’s really bugging you,” Burgh said. “The most vivid image in your head right now. What is it?”

_A tall, dark furred creature straddling me on a bed, arms around my neck, claws gripping me. Kissing Draya. Her eyes are closed._

“Uh,” Tristan said, after a moment of reflection. “Well, okay. This girl, who I met a little while ago…”

“Good, go on.” Burgh moved onto another sketch. “Who is she?”

“Well, in this case, it doesn’t really matter to me _who_ she is. It’s the situation that’s getting to me. We got to be pretty close pretty quickly, and I really began to enjoy having her around. Then, yesterday I found something out about her.”

“Hmm? And what was that?”

“She had been lying to me,” explained Tristan. “She said she wanted to tell me about it on her own, but she kept stalling, or never found the time, or something.”

“Then her heart’s in the right place,” Burgh said simply. Another new page.

“I guess so, yeah. In fact, what she lied about isn’t what I’m… stuck on. It’s that she’s… into me. Like, a lot.”

Burgh raised an eyebrow, but still smiled, “And this is a bad thing? You two are close, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but not _that way_ ,” said Tristan.

“Are you sure?” the artist asked him. “I’d say, if you _were_ sure, that _this_ wouldn’t be keeping you up at night. You could simply turn her down and think nothing of it. Or maybe you just can’t sleep on busses. I can’t tell.”

“I mean… I don’t know. We _weren_ _’t_ like that before, I hadn’t even thought about her that way—it never even came up—and now that it’s out there in the open, I’m just—,” Tristan paused, unable to pin down right word.

“Indecisive.”

“Yeah,” Tristan said. “That. What do you think I should do?”

Burgh pondered for a moment, sketching as he thought. His pencil in hand flew across the page faster than Tristan had seen it previously that night.

“You are a leaf in the wind,” Burgh said. He held up his sketchbook to show Tristan the current page. It was remarkably well done considering the time it took to draw. A tree stood on the shore of a pond—or a lake, Tristan couldn’t tell—with the tree’s many branches hanging on either side of its trunk. A single leaf had fallen off a branch, and was now falling toward the ground.

“A leaf in the wind, specifically this one, has two fates: to land in the water and get wet, and to land on the shore to stay dry. You and I and everyone else know that leaves do not fall in straight lines. They twist and turn, they glide and float however they please. Sometimes there is wind to guide the leaf to its destiny, and sometimes there isn’t. So, if I were to ask you, what will happen to the leaf, what would you say?”

“It could go either way?” Tristan asked.

“Whatever you want it to be!” Burgh said. “It’s art! Interpret it how you wish.”

“Well, how would _you_ answer that question then?”

“I would say,” Burgh started, “that the leaf _will_ either be wet or dry. Neither answer is more prominent or more likely than the other.” He tore out the sketch and handed it to Tristan. “All that you can do, is wait and see how it ends up. Let the leaf take its time. Then you can safely say whether it fell in the water, or landed on the shore.”

Tristan looked at the drawing, staring at the lone leaf, trying to find if it was closer to the water, or the dry land.

“Take my time?” he asked Burgh.

“If this girl is as close to you as you say, I think she’ll understand.”

—————

Hours later, Tristan found himself staring bleary-eyed at a pamphlet Cheren handed him. A nice looking illustration of a lighthouse surrounded by the sea and light, thin clouds made up its cover, with a message reading: [Come See Liberty Garden Island. Where the Light of Freedom Shines!]

“A tourist trap?” Tristan asked, looking at it.

“It’s what the mission description said.” Cheren handed a similar looking item to Bianca, a map of Castelia City, with directions to the park in the center of the city.

Tristan looked over the included map in his brochure, visualizing this path to the pier he would leave from. The three of them sat in the corner of Castelia’s primary bus hub, going over their plans for the day. The sun was almost up, the sky beginning to lighten as the morning continued on in its eventual transition into the day.

He had managed to get some sleep in the final hours of their bus ride into the big city, but Tristan could still feel his body react sluggishly. He yawned and turned his pamphlet over and noticed that Cheren had circled the scheduled trips to the island.

“Did that email say what time their ‘mission’ was going to take place on the island?” he asked.

“It only said that whatever they have planned would take place this afternoon. I assume more detailed instructions were sent out afterwards,” said Cheren. He continued, looking to Bianca, “I need you to make sure you look for any suspicious activity in the crowd. It wouldn’t surprise me if Plasma has agents in civilian clothing seeded in these crowds, doing whatever they may need them to.”

“You can count on us!” Bianca said, proudly. “Chao, Moony, and I won’t let you down.”

“Your two jobs have goals,” Tristan spoke up, “but mine doesn’t really make sense. Why is Team Plasma going to Liberty Garden Island?”

“I mentioned before that that operation wasn’t very descriptive, but it was higher on their priority list than the other two targets, which means it’s obviously important,” said Cheren. He gestured to the two badges Tristan wore, “I’m entrusting you with that location, since you’re clearly the better battler among us.”

“But what is it, though?” Tristan asked, mostly for himself. Anyone could go to Liberty Garden Island. Hundreds of people did every day. “Maybe someone important is going to be there? Are they abducting someone?”

“I don’t know.” Cheren picked up his backpack and began walking toward the door. “We have a few hours before we need to be in our locations—Bianca does, at least. Her target event starts at one o’clock.”

“Good,” Tristan said, going over his map to find the nearest Pokémon Center with a hotel. “I’m going to get a quick nap at the Center before I head to the pier.”

“Tristan.”

“What?” he turned back at his friend, who gave him a worried stare.

“Do _not_ miss your deadline. I’d recommend getting on the ten o’clock boat to make sure you’re there when Plasma starts anything. That’s the earliest one.”

“I’ll be fine, I won’t oversleep,” Tristan said. He wished his friends good luck in their missions and walked out of the bus station.

Draya, who had been expectedly silent in the crowded waiting room of the station, leaned in close and whispered into Tristan’s ear.

“When we get to our new room,” she said, “how about we pick up where we were… interrupted last night?”

“I’m going to get some _sleep_ when we get our room, Draya. I have a feeling today’s going to be a long day.”

Tristan could hear her disappointed huff, grateful that she didn’t press the matter further. A strong gust of wind blew as he crossed the street, surrounded by a crowd of people. Of the many people walking on the road at that moment, just one of them looked up and stared at a leaf, as it blew south toward the sea.

—————

It took Draya four minutes after Tristan had fallen asleep on the bed to realize she was still in her Servine form. It didn’t seem to be worth the trouble to keep herself shrouded in an illusion, at least while the two of them were alone. Letting go of that mental link in her mind’s eye—the picture in her head of what she wanted to look like—her fake face shattered like glass.

For the second time in two days, a Zoroark stood in a hotel room, stretching her arms and flexing her new, bright red claws.

The elevator up to their room above the Pokémon Center had taken a long time, Draya remembered. Curious, she made her way over the large window, carefully pulling back the white curtains to peek out. She saw a gorgeous view of Castelia Bay. Many boats and ships could be seen parked at various docks along the coastline. Directly below, Draya could barely make out the large population of the city moving about on the sidewalks and roads. She felt so high up, she flung open the curtains, no longer fearing that any prying eyes could see her.

Behind her, she heard a groan, and Tristan rolled over towards the wall opposite her.

She quietly muttered an apology, forgetting how tired he looked on the way up to their room.

_Did he not sleep on our way here? He was falling asleep standing up on the elevator ride up here._

Silently, Draya crept up to the side of the lone bed in the room, almost afraid to make any noise.

_I bet I could make him more comfortable. He_ _’d like that._

As Draya eased herself onto the bed beside Tristan, he began to stir, grumbling at her.

“I need to sleep… Please leave me alone…”

She sat on the side of the bed for a moment, a little shocked at the irritation that seemed to come from his words. She reached out a hand towards him, meaning to comfort him or reassure him of her intentions, but she drew back. Standing up from the bed, Draya looked down at Tristan’s tired face. He didn’t seem angry, not to her eyes, at least.

_But since yesterday, he_ _’s been…_

Dropping that train of thought as fast as she could, Draya then sought from something to do in the meantime.

The simple room they had rented presented few options. Two chairs sat neatly pushed under the small, round table by the window. If she couldn’t bother Tristan, at least she could sit and watch the Pidove and Swanna fly around the bay area.

Fifteen minutes of sitting in a chair sluggishly moved by before Draya gave up.

She didn’t feel tired, and felt it would be a wasted effort to try and sleep like Tristan had now successfully managed to. Draya listened to his light breathing, entranced by the rise and fall of his chest beneath the blankets. She found herself desperately wanting to be close to him again. To hold him in her arms—or be held—without the fear of anyone coming to interrupt, or for anyone to see her real form.

_Anyone but Tristan_ , she thought to herself. The longer she stood in the sunlight streaming into the room, staring down at the human unaware of her gaze, the sooner she found herself back to thinking about how the last twenty-four hours had gone.

She had lost control over her illusion during the Gym Battle, letting her true self show to so many humans. The memory of it was still vivid in her mind; the gasps from the crowd, the annoying voice of the man narrating the battle, and Tristan’s look of shock.

_He wasn_ _’t mad then. Maybe a little disappointed I wasn’t what he thought I was… but not mad._

Tristan was more than kind to her after she had been found out. A bit confused, she allowed, but overall accepting. He had made the mistake of ignoring Draya’s cries to leave at the time, but he apologized for that. That was over. He even ran around that forest on his own— _Not entirely, N was with him_ —just to find her.

_Because he cared for me. He said he missed me, even though I was only gone for a few hours. He was afraid I was gone._

Then, they got into that stupid fight.

It was supposed to be a calm, civil discussion about what had happened. Things got out of hand—words were thrown around that probably shouldn’t have. Then Draya let herself evolve. The feelings and sensations that followed overwhelmed her and clouded her better judgment, or so it seemed. Draya didn’t feel like she made a mistake. She definitely did feel drawn to her human. Her first foray into kissing went well, she thought. She had been worried at the possible problems that might arise—physically—were she to come forward as a Zorua. Evolution seemed to just put those urges, thoughts, and desires, at the forefront of her mind.

She had wanted to tell Tristan so badly, just before she ripped that collar off. After she did, the two of them shared a nice, tender moment together. His arm around her, comforting her. Pushing him down onto the bed just felt like the right thing to do at the time.

_It felt good doing it, too,_ she thought.

Looking down at her paws, Draya landed on a thought: she just evolved yesterday, and spent most of the time between in disguise. She didn’t really know what she looked like now. It’s a miracle, she thought, that she had managed to do her new illusion so well without really knowing what she had been changing from.

_Mother had always taught me:_ _“The first step in changing anything, even your shape, is knowing what to change.”_

As quietly as she could, Draya made her way into the room’s washroom and turned on the light. She didn’t recognize the face that stared back at her in the mirror. Her muzzle was longer than it had been, her nose seemed to be of similar shape, she noticed. Draya reached up and felt her ears, still mostly the same apart from the fine, red fur that now lined the inner parts of them. Her eyes then moved to the top of her head, admiring as she did her new large mane of long, black and red fur. She spun on the spot, watching it bounce and sway with her. It went all the way down her back, ending in a ponytail as it continues past her waist.

Her arms felt much stronger, now that they weren’t just two front legs. She could grip things in her shiny, new, red claws. Her legs were much longer, stretching them, she could feel the rising urge to leap and run. She quickly suppressed it and went back to surveying her new body.

_I_ _’m not little anymore. I’m_ tall _._

Draya tried to think back to when she first stood on her new legs. Was she taller than Tristan? The same height? She knew she didn’t have to look up at him when they shared a seat on the bed the night before.

She stopped looking at the details of her body, and focused merely on herself as a whole. She looked into her own eyes staring back at her in the mirror, trying to find something in them that might tell her the answers she was asking herself.

_What did I do wrong? Am I not_ _… good looking anymore?_

She brought up a clawed paw, experimenting with her illusory abilities. She shifted the colors of her furred arm. First to the only other color she thought Tristan might like. Bright yellow— blonde like Bianca’s hair. She turned her claws black. A few moments of scrutiny passed, and Draya canceled the spell, letting her normal colors flow back into view.

_That_ _’s not me. Is it not_ me _that he wants?_

Draya shifted her form again. This time, she stared into the eyes of the dark-skinned girl in the white dress she masqueraded as in the forest. N had seen through her disguise, perhaps because of the things she had said to him, but it concealed her identity well enough. She felt something was off about it, however. The girl looked too young— _she_ looked too young. The clothes were too simple, she felt.

She let her form shift, growing taller, matching the height of her true form. Draya let her human form’s hair flow out down her back, like her mane, a large mass of dark brown curls.

As she looked at her new self, Draya shook her head, letting it fall apart in pieces.

_What_ _’s the point? If I’m going to be his, if I’m going to be with him, it’s going to be_ me _he_ _’s holding in his arms. Not some nameless human girl. Not some fake snake._ Me!

Before she left the washroom, a playful thought danced in her head, and she turned back to the mirror.

_But that doesn_ _’t mean I can’t play around with things to see what he likes. Maybe big breasts? Those are what human women have that the males seem to like. And what else? Wider hips?_

Draya spent the remainder of her time experimenting with her self-image. Not one specific alteration seemed to catch her eye, but she decided, it wasn’t her eye she was trying to please. When the sound of Tristan’s alarm startled her in the middle of seeing what colors might make her mane more appealing, she let her illusions fade away and went back into the room.

Tristan slept for an extra five minutes while his XTransceiver blared an annoying tune, all the while Draya sat in her chair out looking the bay.

_I know I can make this work. I just need to find out what_ _’s making him hold back. I’ll get his attention somehow…_

_The first chance I get._

_—————_

To Be Continued…

—————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter recently received a bit of fanart! [Take a look!](https://i.imgur.com/3clHgmr.png)


	9. The Storm

—————

Tristan stood on the deck of the ferry as it chugged across the bay. He leaned against the railing with crossed arms, focused on the scenery above and around him. Clouds were beginning to cover the sky. Every now and then they would block out the sun, turning the sparkling blue water to a dull gray. He watched the city as it grew smaller, silently hoping that his friends’ missions would go well.

“Come on, let’s move to the front,” said a woman. She pulled her husband’s arm and dragged him to the opposite end of the boat.

Tristan took a quick glance around the platform, realizing he’d been forced to face something he’d been dreading in the back of his head: He and Draya were now alone together.

 _I shouldn_ _’t be afraid of what she might do,_ he thought. _Not here, at least. There are people here. She wouldn_ _’t do anything that’d make her stand out._

No sooner had the thoughts left his mind that a shimmer of purple light shined in the corner of his eye. A pair of dark, furred arms slowly came around his chest, hugging him gently. Tristan could feel Draya’s warm breath on his neck. It made him shiver.

“Nice, isn’t it?” she asked him.

Whatever she was referring to, Tristan couldn’t tell. He merely gave a non-descriptive grunt in response.

“Is something wrong? Did you get enough sleep?”

“Probably not,” Tristan said, “but it’ll have to be enough.” He felt Draya nuzzle the side of his face with hers, letting out a satisfied hum. “What are you doing, Draya? There are people here, you know.”

“Look.” Draya told him. When he didn’t move, she urged him again. “I mean it, look at me.”

With reluctant movements, Tristan turned around, still wrapped in Draya’s arms. She looked the same as she had when she evolved. The same bright, cyan eyes and sharply contrasting red mane of fur accenting her body of dark brown. Draya released her hold on him, after a moment of staring into his eyes, and took a step back on the deck, spreading her arms.

“Well? What do you think?” she asked.

Tristan looked at her, trying to find what she was trying to show him. He finally shrugged when he couldn’t find anything to note.

“Look around, on the floor,” said Draya. She pointed a red claw at sparkling purple line that encircled a portion of the rear deck.

“What is that?” Tristan asked. He was sure it wasn’t there before.

“It’s me. I figured out this trick earlier while you were sleeping.” She eagerly pulled him towards her, excitement shining in her eyes. “I can do illusions on things _other than myself now_! That line there? That’s the border. Anyone outside of it will just see you and me, Trainer and Servine, enjoying a nice, calm, ferry ride.”

“And _inside_ here?” Tristan asked her. “What’s going to happen in here?”

“You… and I… can do whatever we want.” Draya moved her arms up to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. She leaned forward, only needing to crane her neck slightly upward, and kissed him. She pressed herself against his body, leaning into the contact of her lips on his.

Tristan pushed back, holding his Pokémon at arm’s length. “Stop.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just stop, Draya.” Tristan let her go, turning back to face the water.

“What did I do wrong?” she demanded. “I told you, no one will be able to see us in my illusion, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Tristan said, still looking out to sea, “is that you’re acting completely selfish.”

“Excuse me?” Draya asked, acting as if she hadn’t heard him correctly.

“You know what I said.”

“No, I really don’t think I do,” she said, turning her human trainer around to face her. “Because it sounded like _you_ called _me_ selfish.”

“Oh good, your illusions don’t shut down your ears,” Tristan said, mocking relief. “Draya, think for one second here: when have I ever—before you evolved and kissed me—shown even the slightest romantic interest towards you?”

“You showed it all the time,” said Draya. “I thought you’ve been interested since I started _talking_ to you.”

“What—?” Tristan gapped. “How?”

“Well, you know…” Draya looked down at her feet. “You were always very… affectionate and caring. You made it clear you weren’t interested in Bianca—who _I_ think is very pretty—so I thought you were focusing on me, I guess.” She looked back up at him. “Plus you’re the only human I’ve ever felt close to. I can talk openly to you—not like how I’ve had to talk to Cheren or Bianca. I _feel_ like you’re interested. Are you saying you’re not?”

Tristan sighed, leaning back against the railing. He held his arms out, motioning for Draya to come to him.

She sheepishly stepped forward, unsure of herself. She let herself be held in his arms, finding them warm and comforting.

“I am interested and there’s no doubt in my mind that I care for you, Draya. Don’t forget that.” He stroked her long mane of red fur. “But look at it from my perspective; in the past day and a half, I learned you were a Zorua in disguise, you ran away from me, you _evolved_ in front of my eyes, and now you’re trying your hardest to push our relationship into territory we’ve never even came _close_ to before.”

“I’m sorry…” Draya said, quietly. “I was just—”

“I’m not done. And not all of this is your fault, either. If we were still in Nacrene right now, things would probably be different, but with Team Plasma supposedly taking action, on top of everything with you, I’m just overwhelmed. I really can’t handle so much at once and be expected to make a large change like you’re proposing.”

Draya shifted and looked up at him, sadness spread clearly on her face. “What, then? Do I just forget about… _us_ , like that?”

“I’m not saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’ right now,” Tristan said. “You deserve an answer when I can devote my full attention to it. And right now, I can’t.”

“So, we wait?” Draya asked.

Smiling, Tristan bent down and gave Draya a quick kiss.

“That’d be perfect,” he said. “I’m sorry I called you selfish. That was unfair of me. After we kick Team Plasma’s collective asses out of the city, I promise I’ll at least try to be what you thought I’d be.”

“Good,” Draya said, grinning.

—————

_Eighty-Three oh Two Majestic._

Cheren repeated the street address over and over in his head as he walked. He moved down the sidewalk, keeping an eye on the many passersby that did the same. In the few chances he’d had to look around without _looking_ like he was looking, he didn’t see anyone that looked like they were following him. A promising sign, he thought. If he or any of his friends were wanted by Team Plasma, surely he would have drawn their attention by now.

_But I am in a very crowded area. Let_ _’s see how safe I am when I’m alone, shall we?_

As Cheren neared his destination, he could see the building in question. From the front, visible by the road itself, it looked like the many buildings around it. No obvious signs or decorations could be seen. Only a single, windowless door with a mail slot and its address were visible.

He walked on by without slowing and turned onto the next road, and noticed there was an alley way that ran behind the building. With purpose, he turned down the narrow road and began counting backwards until he found his target. He stopped behind number 8302, and looked for anything suspicious. No one could be seen down either direction of the alley he was in.

A back door with a window, blinds pulled down, and a wide, metal garage door faced him. The building itself was plain brick. Nothing out of place as far as his eye could see.

None of Team Plasma’s other hideouts or warehouses had any obvious clues as to their owners’ identities. This building could easily be an innocent person’s property. Cheren hesitated as he reached for the door handle, not wanting to disappoint himself, and to perhaps bring an unwanted breaking and entering charge on him.

_No. This is the address. I_ _’m sure of it. There’s something here._

Cheren grasped the door’s handle quickly; he felt tense, almost worried that it would burn or shock him at his touch. In a two quick motions, he turned the handle and swung the door open. He made his move inside as the door still moved, Poké Ball in hand, ready to counter any resistance inside. What he found was a dark, and empty garage, with what looked like another door that led into the main part of the building. As Cheren’s eyes began to adjust to the low light in the room, he started searching for details, and hopefully something to prevent him having wasted his time.

There wasn’t much in the garage, save for a few boxes. Some of them were empty, others sparsely filled with seemingly unimportant items. However, they were all stamped with Team Plasma’s symbol. Cheren bent down to the floor behind the closed retractable metal door. Fresh tire marks could be made out in the thin layer of dust on the floor leading outside.

 _Damn. I_ was _right, but they cleaned this place out already._

As Cheren turned back towards the door to leave, there was somebody standing in front of him. A man wearing a headband, a cloth mask over his mouth and nose, form fitting black clothes, and long, swept-back, white hair stood slouched and slack a foot from Cheren. His expression seemed bored, as if uninterested in everything around him.

“Who are you…?” he said to Cheren.

The man’s sudden appearance made Cheren yelp in fear. As he threw back his right arm to release his Pokémon, the man rushed forward, grabbing him by the wrist.

“No fighting…” the man spoke at a whisper. His green eyes looked lazily into Cheren’s. “Only words now.”

“Who are you?”

“My identity doesn’t matter. What does is my question: Who? Are? You?” the man repeated, slowly and concise.

Before Cheren could say anything, another man of similar appearance and height made himself known. He stepped forward into the light from the open door. His white hair was wild and unkempt.

“He is one of the _three_ ,” the newcomer said. Cheren could see red eyes shining in the light. “One of the young men.”

“But _not_ the one our Lord encountered. Master Zinzolin mentioned this one.”

A third man tore Cheren’s attention away from the first two, appearing to his left. His appearance differed with cool, blue eyes, and white hair that flowed neatly down the right side of his face.

Cheren tried desperately to move his right arm, but he found he couldn’t budge from the green-eyed man’s grasp.

Noticing his attempts at escape, the masked man tightened his grip on Cheren’s arm until it began to crack, causing the young trainer to cry out in pain. Cheren’s Poké Ball fell harmlessly on the floor.

“ _No fighting_ ,” the man said, flatly.

“The girl isn’t here,” the blue-eyed man said. “Nor is the one Lord Ghetsis met with.”

“If this one is here—now—then surely the rest are in the city,” the red-eyed man added. “On today, no less.”

“Perhaps something should be done about that?” they said in unison, staring Cheren in the face with wide, terrifying eyes.

“Don’t you dare hurt my friends! You hear me!?” Cheren growled at the three. “Who are you? You mentioned Zinzolin and Ghetsis— so you’re Team Plasma, aren’t you?”

The three men continued to stare at Cheren for a moment, then turned to each other. Losing their fierce expressions, they looked back at Cheren and spoke at once:

“We are the Shadow of Team Plasma. Of our King. Three we were, and so a Triad was formed. The Shadow Triad we are called.”

The three leaned in closer to Cheren.

“Remember that you three children are _not_ a threat to our King—not alone—but together, you and your accomplices pose certain problems that our Masters and Lord have run out of patience for. If you value your life, you will stand down. You will give up. You will not interfere.”

The green eyed man shoved Cheren backwards sending him tumbling into the empty boxes.

Cheren cried out in pain as he foolishly tried bracing his fall with his right arm—which he suspected now had a broken wrist. By the time he could recover and look back up, he found himself alone in the garage. The three men were nowhere to be seen. They hadn’t even left any footprints in the dirt that covered the floor.

Cheren scrambled to his feet, grabbing his dropped Poké Ball as he moved. As he ran outside, he came face to face with a little girl. Her dark skin and large bounds of dark hair on her head stood in contrast to the light, over-sized clothes she wore. Her expression quickly turned from surprise at Cheren’s sudden arrival, to one of intense determination.

“Stop right there, Team Plasma!” she yelled at Cheren, throwing down a Poké Ball of her own. A large, green and gray dragon with wide, sword-like tusks stood between Cheren and his way out. “Fraxure, keep him pinned; I’m calling the police.”

—————

“I’m just saying,” Bianca said, trying her best to be persuasive, “that maybe you _shouldn_ _’t_ have the rally today. Or at all.”

The entry-level member of Team Plasma finally looked away from the large speaker system he was setting up for a moment, after having ignored the annoying girl’s please for the better part of five minutes.

“Sorry, trainer,” he said, glancing at the Pignite that stood by her side. “I’m not the one you’d need to convince to call off our presentation today. Even if I was, I don’t think you realize how important Team Plasma is to the future of Unova.”

“I don’t think _you_ know how dangerous and awful your organization is,” Bianca huffed.

The Team Plasma member paid her little mind and turned back to his work.

Bianca turned on the spot and marched angrily off into the slowly gathering crowd.

The Central Plaza Park, aptly located in the center of Castelia City, was a far reaching circular area that showed in stark contrast what the landscape would be like today if one of the largest cities in the world hadn’t sprung up around it. Gentle hills, small trees, and lush, green grass spread across the ground. The towering buildings that took over the horizon constantly reminded city-goers how much of a luxury nature can seem when it is all but absent around them.

_Okay. Canceling it isn_ _’t what I’m supposed to do. Obviously._

She looked back to the stage Team Plasma had set up. Everything she could see, as far as she understood it, looked entirely normal. The crowd was small, slowly building, and relatively quiet. There was even a calming breeze blowing through the park.

“What am I supposed to do, Chao?” Bianca asked, feeling utterly lost.

Her Pignite looked up to her and seemed to share her feeling of uselessness.

Bianca sat on the grass, smoothing out her skirt. Her Pokémon took a spot beside her.

“I’m supposed be here, just in case something happens with Team Plasma, but there’s nothing going on here.”

Chao grunted, as if asking his trainer what else she could do.

“I mean, I could try and find Cheren, or maybe help Tristan on Liberty Island, but then if something goes wrong here, I’m the one to blame…”

Bianca was left with silence as she stared on into the distance.

“What do you think I should do?” she asked, looking to her right.

Her Pignite was nowhere to be seen.

“Chao?”

Bianca stood, trying to find where her Pokémon might be.

_Oh no. Oh no. Oh no._

“CHAO!”

—————

“You can’t be serious,” Cheren said to the girl, looking past the bulky Dragon Pokémon in his way.

“Of course I am!” the girl said, defiant. “You’re under arrest!”

“Don’t waste my time,” said Cheren. He tried to move past the girl’s Pokémon, but the Fraxure growled at his approach, shaking its head and brandishing its tusks. “And clearly, you shouldn’t be wasting yours. Do I look like Team Plasma?”

“Well…” the girl turned her head in thought, looking Cheren down from head to toe. Her eyes seemed to linger on his now swollen wrist. “You don’t _look_ it, but we’ve been fooled before. We’ve had this location under watch for the past few weeks because of suspicious activity. Then here you come, coming in like you own the place.”

“I was _investigating_ this place! This is a Team Plasma hideout—or storehouse, I can’t tell—but it’s all empty! They’re gone!” Cheren yelled.

“But that’s—” the girl rushed past her Fraxure and Cheren and into the building. She spun around, looking for what Cheren assumed to be the things he’d hoped to find. Incredulous, she sat down on the dirty floor, looking defeated. “—impossible…”

Cheren moved aside as the girl’s Fraxure moved into the building and comforted its trainer. The girl looked to be on the verge of tears.

“We _did_ have it under watch! I swear!” she said. “How could they have slipped by us?”

“Just now,” Cheren said, urgently, “literally just before I tried to leave here, did you see three men—long white hair, wearing similar outfits and masks—leave this place?”

“No! I got here just as I heard someone yell inside here. I was about to come in when you came running out.”

Looking down at the floor, Cheren tried to process all of the information he’d been given.

 _The Shadow Triad—those seemingly super-strong and fast ninjas—can appear and disappear at will. Otherwise this girl would_ _’ve seen them leave, if not, at least have footage of them entering if she really_ does _have this place under surveillance. How is that possible? Could they have a Pok_ _émon aiding them?_

_And who is this girl to be investigating Team Plasma? She_ _’s referred to her efforts as “we”. She’s not acting alone._

“Hey,” Cheren said, looking over to the sulking girl in front of him. “What’s your name?”

“Iris…” she said sadly. “My name’s Iris.” She got to her feet, bracing herself on her dragon Pokémon as she stood. “I’m sorry I almost called the police on you.”

“That’s not important right now,” said Cheren. “Why were you keeping tabs on this place and trying to arrest Team Plasma?”

“Well,” said Iris, “if you were here doing the same thing, you should already know.”

“I do. More so than most people.” Cheren winced as he raised his arm to check the time.

“Does that hurt?” Iris asked. “How did that happen?”

Cheren didn’t answer her.

Blinking on his XTransceiver was a notification for the rally that Team Plasma was holding in the center of the city. The Shadow Triad knew about him. They knew about all three of them. And now they know that Bianca and Tristan came to the city with him, and where they might be.

_Damn it. Those three aren_ _’t to be taken lightly. Bianca and Tristan are in danger!_

Cheren looked at the time; it was five minutes before the rally started.

_Tristan should be on the island now_ _… there’s no way I’d make it there before anything happened._

“Listen: if you really care about stopping Team Plasma, you have to help me,” said Cheren, looking up at a concerned Iris. “Just now, I was attacked by three—I don’t know, _assassins_ working for Plasma. They threatened to hurt me and my friends if we continue trying to stop what they’re doing in this city. But my friends don’t know that. They’re in danger.”

“Oh my god!” Iris said. “Where are they?”

“They’re split up, but my friend Bianca is the closest to us. I’ll need help if those men show up there.”

“You got it,” she said, sure of herself. “Iris of the Dragon Clan won’t let down the people who ask of her.”

Nodding, Cheren stepped outside into the alley. He pressed the button on one of his Poké Balls, releasing a large, red and blue feathered bird Pokémon. His Braviary cawed as he stretched his wings.

“Then come with me,” Cheren said as he climbed onto his bird’s back.

—————

A stiff wind blew almost constantly, sending large waves crashing loudly onto the shore of Liberty Garden Island. More clouds had moved in, turning the bright and sunny day into a gloomy afternoon.

Tristan and Draya had arrived, along with a handful of other tourists, at half past ten in the morning. Checking his XTransceiver, Tristan saw it was now almost one o’clock. They were nearing their scheduled time to depart the island, or else they would have to wait for a later ferry.

“Bianca’s rally should be starting soon,” Tristan said, leaning back on a bench. The past two hours or so had given him a much needed chance to rest easy. After Draya had agreed to at least slow her advances on him on the boat ride over, he felt like a lot of what had been keeping him so wound up was gone.

“You think she’ll run into trouble?” Draya—disguised as a Servine—asked. She was lying coiled on the bench, respectfully beside her trainer, keeping true to her word.

“Hopefully not, but you never know.” Tristan leaned back and closed his eyes.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep,” Draya stood and started smacking Tristan lightly on the cheek.

“I’m just enjoying the peace and—”

A deafening boom of thunder nearly scared Tristan out of his seat. Awake and alert, Tristan and Draya looked around, seeing the other visitors looking as frightened and surprised as they did.

“I thought the tour guide from the ferry said the weather would be nice once the clouds passed…” Tristan said.

That clearly was no longer the case, as dark clouds swirled in the sky high above Liberty Garden Island. More thunder crashes sounded down from above, making Tristan instinctively crouch down next to the bench. Draya hopped to the ground to join him.

“Oh my— Look!” she yelled over the thunder.

Tristan followed her hand to where she was pointing and blinked hard at what he was seeing. Thick clouds were descending from the sky, closing off the island’s only way back to the city. The water between the shore and the cloud barrier churned and raged; the slow moving ferry wouldn’t be leaving for some time.

Tristan stood up, looking around the island. An unnatural wall of clouds spiraled around the island, flashing with lightning with unsettling frequency. The wind picked up in strength, almost causing him to stumble where he stood. Straight above the island, the maelstrom enclosed the island in a dome of dark, angry clouds.

‘ _I guess now is the time, don_ _’t you think?_ ’

In the loud cacophony of wind and thunder claps, Tristan thought someone had come up next to him. As he turned around, he only saw a few other tourists running towards the visitor’s center at the north end of the island. Draya was the only one apart from Tristan on the southern shore that he could see.

‘ _Yeah, you_ _’re not going crazy. You heard me. Now move, soldier!_ ’

‘ _Hello?_ ’ Tristan tried to mimic the sensation that touched his mind.

‘ _Oh good! You got the hang of it! Now, there_ _’ll be time to explain later, but for now I need to hurry into the lighthouse._ ’

“Why?” Tristan asked aloud.

“‘Why’ what?” Draya asked, confused. “What should we do?”

“I—” Tristan started, but the mysterious voice cut him off.

‘ _I_ _’m trying to be nice here Tristan, but I really do need you to hurry. Oh and there’ll be a nice married couple about twenty yards ahead of you that I need you to bring with you. They’re going to be trying to make their way to the visitor’s center, but right now they’re crouched behind a tree, waiting for a break in the storm. Their lives are in your hands now._ ’

“I…” he looked towards the lighthouse, barely managing to catch a glimpse of the man and woman the voice mentioned. Visibility was beginning to fall as the clouds began to darken further.

‘ _And here comes the rain._ ’

“Draya, I’m taking a big leap of faith here,” he said once the first raindrop hit his face. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” she said, shimmering her form to let her true eye color show.

“Then let’s go.”

Tristan broke into a run just as the rain began to fall in earnest, calling for Draya to follow him. The high winds sent the tiny droplets of water flying around at painful speeds, stinging any exposed flesh. It slowed their march to a slow walk as they fought against the storm. Looking back behind him, Tristan saw Draya’s illusion falter for a split second. She regenerated the illusory construct as quickly as it left.

Soon enough, they came upon the two people the voice had requested join him. Tristan instantly recognized them as the couple that left he and Draya alone on the back deck early that morning. The voice told him their names, and continued to provide him with suspiciously specific instructions.

“Mariah and Nathan Relmstead, you need to come with us,” Tristan said. “We’re going for shelter.”

“Who are you?” Nathan asked. “How in the hell do you know who we are?”

‘ _Do what you have to get them down here. Oh._ _“Here” is a basement, so that should get them to go with you._ ’

“I hope I’ll be able to explain everything,” Tristan tried to say over the loud storm, “but we need to go! Now! This lighthouse is the safest place to be during this. I can get us inside to the basement,” he urged, still unsure what could make these two ordinary people so vital.

“Come on, Nathan,” the woman said. “He has a point. He might be secret police or something. Lead the way, sir.”

“Thank you,” Tristan said, unsure how to take the sudden vote of authority. He urged them to follow as they made their way to the main walkway up to the lighthouse’s entrance. They battled the wind and rain all the way there.

“I thought tourists weren’t allowed inside,” the husband yelled up at him.

“So did I, but we’re on official business!” Tristan yelled back as he reached the door. He slammed his fists against the heavy wooden door a few times. “Hey, open up! We need to get inside!”

The door opened slightly, showing the face of an older, graying man. “No visitors allowed inside! Can’t you read your damn brochure?”

‘ _Of course, he_ _’s being difficult. How original,_ ’ the voice said. ‘ _Okay, just tell him this. Exactly these words_ _…_ ’

“Obidiah Drake!” Tristan yelled through the door. A moment later, the man returned, opening the door fully. “In the end, victory has one cost; there has to be someone who loses.”

The older man groaned, running a hand through his beard. “Come in, you folks.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mariah said to him. Her husband repeated the gratitude.

As the door closed and locked behind them, Tristan looked up at the interior of the lighthouse, wiping some rain from his forehead.

“Where’d you hear that little nugget of wisdom, son?” Obidiah asked.

“A little birdy told me,” Tristan said. “One who says to stop groping your beard when you’re judging someone.”

The old man jerked his hand down at the accusation, his expression growing more annoyed by the minute. “All of you need to go to the basement, I take it?”

“So I’m told,” said Tristan.

“Of course we do,” Nathan said, holding his wife close. “We need to be safe from the storm outside.”

Obidiah gave the married couple a bored look, and then motioned for them to follow him, taking them to another heavy door, this one made of metal. Taking off a key he wore around his neck, the old man of the lighthouse opened the door with a loud creak.

“Well go on, then,” he said. “Go play his little games.”

‘ _No, Obbie, you need to come too,_ ’ the voice said. This time, the whole room seemed to hear the words. Silently, after exchanging a few startled glances, the group all proceeded down the steps.

Draya’s Servine form leapt up and clung to Tristan’s shoulders as they all walked down the concrete stairs. As they reached the bottom, she whispered in his ear, “Uh, Tristan. What was _that_?! I heard something in my head!”

‘ _I_ _’m Victini!_ ’ the voice called out to them all. The wide eyed, big-eared, smiling Mythical Pokémon in question floated out of the doorway to a well-lit and colorful room, ‘ _Nice to meet you all!_ ’

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	10. Victory

—————

There are only a few things that can get the attention of a crowd as quickly as the scream of a young girl.

Bianca looked around the park franticly, eyes wide, ignoring the confused and worried stares she was getting from the other people around her.

“Chao!” she called, hoping above all hopes that her Pokémon had merely wandered away. “Where are you?”

Central Plaza Park was slowly becoming crowded with people awaiting the start of the Team Plasma presentation that was only minutes away. Bianca quickly ran back to the stage where she had tried to persuade the young man from setting up the equipment. A few low-level members tried to stop her approach, but the distraught blond girl pushed past them, running up to the center of the stage.

“Excuse me, everyone?” she said into the microphone, worriedly looking at the people in front of her. Her voice carried out over the park, silencing the crowd and drawing all eyes to the shaking girl standing alone.

“I— I’m really sorry to bother you all but my name is Bianca and my Pokémon, my Pignite, is missing! He was just with me, but now he’s gone. I was sitting right over there,” she pointed to a spot on the grass out to her left. “If anyone could help me find him, I—I— I’d really appreciate it… so—”

“Alright, miss,” a Team Plasma member came up behind her, grabbing her shoulder. “I’m going to have to ask you to get off the stage. We are about to begin.”

“No! Please— _anyone_ —help me find my Pokémon!” she struggled in his grip, calling back into the microphone.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” a new voice said from behind her. Short, shuffling footsteps came up the steps onto the stage. A tall man with long, dull, green hair and a long colorful robe came up behind Bianca and the Team Plasma grunt. “There’s no need to be so concerned. I can see you care deeply about Pokémon, don’t you?”

Bianca stared up at the man, glancing for a quick moment at the shining red eyepiece the tall man wore.

“I—” she started, but then her memory kicked; from the images Cheren had shown her, the way Tristan described the man who seemed to manipulate the Nacrene City police, and worse, the horrid looking creation that appeared in the mist at the Dreamyard. She was speaking with Ghetsis Harmonia.

“It’s okay, my child.” The tall man laid a calm hand on Bianca’s head, smiling. “I can see you’re upset. I believe I can help.” Ghetsis stepped up to the microphone and addressed the crowd, letting his left arm sweep out to his side.

“Kind citizens, hear my plea! My name is Ghetsis of Team Plasma, This young girl— this young Pokémon Trainer has sorely lost her precious Pokémon. Now, while it is the righteous mission of Team Plasma to sever the ties that bind humans and Pokémon together and liberate our Pokémon friends from their oppressive masters, I ask you to look beside me; does this crying girl look awful to you? Does she seem the kind of person to neglect or abuse her Pokémon?

“She is a shining example of humanity! The mere thought of losing her Pokémon has brought this girl to tears…” Ghetsis interrupted his impromptu speech to wipe at his uncovered eye with an exaggerated flourish. “To say that your actions have moved me, young lady, would be an understatement of the highest order. You do more than that: You give me _hope_!

“So I say again, citizens! If any of you could help this girl find her precious Pignite, not only do you show her a kindness, but to me as well. It is with a heavy heart that I spread the message of Team Plasma. I do so wish that humans and Pokémon can live in _harmony_ , just as this girl seems to. But unfortunately,” he turned and gestured to Bianca, “we can’t all be as kind as you, my dear.”

“Um, thank you, sir,” Bianca said quietly, wiping her face of the few remaining tears.

The crowd began to come to life with activity. A few spectators began to disperse into the park, looking for Bianca’s Pokémon. A small group in particular—three young men—made their way up to the front of the stage.

“Hey, Miss Bianca!” one called to her. “Over here!”

He was wearing a much more casual outfit than she remembered from when Bianca had first met him—in fact, all three of them were wearing rather normal clothes, she noticed—but it was his wild, bright-red hair that caught her eye.

“Gym Leader Chili? Cilan and Cress too?” Bianca asked, walking to the edge of the stage. “What are you three doing here?”

“Well,” Cress started, “with the recent boom of popularity that this ice cream has experienced—” the blue haired brother held out a serving of the famous and rather delicious looking frozen treat, “—we thought it be a good investment to try some for ourselves.”

“And to see if our restaurant might be a potential outlet for sales in southeastern Unova,” Cilan added.

“But, right now, you’ve got a missing Pignite,” Chili spoke up. “And I’m the closest Fire type expert around, don’t you think?”

“You think you can find my Chao?” Bianca asked, hopeful.

The three brothers smiled, and bowed to her; Cress making sure not to ruin his ice cream in the process.

“It is our humble duty to serve,” the three said at once.

“It’s wonderful to see the Gym Leaders of our proud region take an active part in helping its citizens,” Ghetsis said, smiling. “Bianca my dear, why not go with them? If anyone here finds your Pokémon while you are away, I will watch over it until you return.”

“Really?” she asked.

“As surely as I am devoted to my cause,” said Ghetsis.

Bianca carefully hopped down to the grass from the stage, and marched off with the three Striaton-native brothers.

—————

The High Sage of Team Plasma watched the group of young people as they walked through the crowd, listening to the applause that began to rise up, which then led to cheers. The people of Castelia City praised the kindness of Ghetsis, crediting the three Leaders’ appearance to his address.

Lord Ghetsis Harmonia smiled as he waved to the crowd. He began his presentation as originally planned, knowing in the back of his mind that at least one distraction was—or would soon be—taken care of.

One way or another.

—————

As the winds and thunder continued to boom above them, the four humans stood silently in the dark, concrete hallway underneath the Liberty Garden Tower.

Tristan stared at the bright-eyed, smiling, and seemingly giddy creature floating in the doorway. The room behind the grinning rodent was brightly lit, but not very tastefully decorated. It was filled with colorful posters and toys littered the floor. A bookshelf stood next to a small bed, which was covered in many pillows.

After almost a minute of silence, Nathan Relmstead leaned past Tristan, getting a good look at the Pokémon who had just greeted them. “What exactly are you?”

“Finally, someone asks the important questions…” Obidiah muttered, moving past Victini to sit in an old rocking chair inside the colorful room.

‘ _Oh, now don_ _’t be rude…_ ’ Victini said, pouting. ‘ _Come on inside, we_ _’ve got a lot to talk about!_ ’

Tristan looked down to Draya, whose Servine form looked back up at him. He shrugged, and stepped into the lively room. Nathan and his wife Mariah followed closely behind.

“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Mariah asked.

‘ _Of course I can!_ ’ Victini said, bouncing on the bed.

A moment of silence filled with creaking bedsprings persisted before anyone else spoke again.

“Are you _going_ to?” Tristan asked, crossing his arms.

‘ _I_ _’m thinking…’_ Victini said, closing his eyes. ‘ _Something_ _’s weird… Your Servine’s got some_ very _thick Dark aura swirling about her. It takes a lot more effort to sustain a mental communication link._ ’ The Victory Pokémon stopped jumping on the bed, hovering mid-jump above the covers. ‘ _What was her father? A Scrafty? Krookodile?_ ’

Draya leapt up from the floor and hid behind Tristan’s back, clinging to his shoulders. She whispered through her illusion so only Tristan could hear her, “He suspects me! He’ll find out about me if he keeps it up!”

“Well, I don’t actually know the answer that,” Tristan said, knowing where this line of discussion might lead. He hoped to avoid another “Nacrene Gym” incident. He decided to drive Victini’s attention elsewhere, “But really, what’s the deal here? Why did you bring us down here?”

‘ _I certainly hope you three,_ ’ Victini gestured to the three human guests, ‘ _give me a chance to fully explain. But if I had to trim the fat, I_ _’d say that I need your help._ ’

“Oh boy…” the old man said between rocks oh his chair.

Victini turned to face his old caretaker. ‘ _This time_ _’s serious, Obbie. If we don’t play our cards right today, things won’t be pretty around here._ ’

“Out with it already!” Tristan demanded. His head pounded and he clenched his eyes shut in a momentary bout of pain. His lack of sleep and the excited psychic presence in his head had slowed his usually quick-thinking mind. He stood in the silence his outburst had caused, thinking. “Is this about…?” he said, going on a hunch.

‘ _Go on! You_ _’re probably right!_ ’ Victini said, cheery.

“Team Plasma’s behind this storm and it’s some way for them to get to you, isn’t it?” Tristan asked.

Victini grinned, showing his pointy teeth, clapping his little hands. ‘ _Oh, you_ _’re just wonderful! Very nice!_ ’

“They can control the sky now?” Draya asked aloud. Habit had gotten the better of her, letting slip her voice around the strange humans and inquisitive Psychic type. She dropped down to the floor and clasped her tiny hands over her mouth, looking afraid at the stares she now had bearing down on her.

‘ _The plot thickens, you little snake. What is up with you?_ ’ Victini asked, peering down at her.

“You taught your Pokémon to speak? That’s amazing!” Nathan said. “How’d you do it? Did you use the method developed by Dr. Kaminko in Orre?”

“Oh, that never even worked, Nate,” his wife said, annoyed. “I doubt this boy even knows what you’re talking about.”

“His theories were sound enough! And anyone can find anything on the internet these days, not like our early days.”

“Please,” Tristan held up a hand to silence the married couple. He knelt down to his masquerading Pokémon’s small form, “Draya, it’s alright. You don’t need to hide that side of yourself. These people are nice.”

“Mmnn… Fine,” Draya finally said. “I guess we have more important things to worry about.”

‘ _You_ _’re right; both times, in fact,_ ’ Victini said, hovering close to her. ‘ _Team Plasma_ has _gained control of the sky. And it_ _’s troubling how much power that grants you._ ’

“But how?” Tristan asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”

‘ _A lot in this world doesn_ _’t, unfortunately. Like your Servine, for instance…_ ’

“Enough about me already!” Draya yelled at Victini. “Just tell us what they’re trying to do and how we can help.”

‘ _Oooh, she_ _’s a firecracker!_ ’

“Victini!” Obidiah said, glaring. “If this is a serious attempt on your life, then start acting like it!”

‘ _Oh, I_ _’ll probably live, but it’s not my life that’s in danger._ ’ Victini flew to the center of the room. ‘ _You three humans—suspicious Servine aside—are instrumental in the survival of many in the Unova region, and a few others elsewhere. Team Plasma is after me for what I can offer anyone: power._ Unlimited _power._ ’

Victini held out a hand, curling his fingers. He focused, pooling a bright energy in his fingers. It filled the room with warmth and energy. A miniature sun burned in the palm of Victini’s little hand before he let it slowly die.

‘ _I can_ _’t really access the power I generate; just a fraction of it. But I can share its full benefits with anyone, in any amount. That’s what Plasma wants from this island._ ’

“Wow,” Tristan said, blinking away the bright lights in his eyes.

‘ _They want me as a weapon, or at least, something to help their plans. I actually have other plans,_ ’ Victini said. ‘ _Plans that involve you two, Nathan and Mariah. I need you to do something for me. But I also need you to be very brave._ ’

Victini levitated over to the husband and wife, and closed his eyes. A silent display of psychic power occurred as Victini relayed a lengthy, powerful message directly to their minds. As the vision ended, Victini’s smile was now a serious expression, lips pressed into a slight frown. Mariah broke down and began to cry, holding onto her husband’s shoulder. Nathan held his wife in his arms and now wore a very determined expression.

“How… How can you possibly ask us to do that!?” he yelled. “He’s our son!”

‘ _And he will be fine! I promise you that! But he needs to make it through what happened to him without you there to coddle him!_ ’

“What kind of promise is that?” Nathan scowled. “What guarantee could you give us?”

‘ _Today,_ ’ Victini said.

“What?”

‘ _Today, I_ _’ll show you what I can do for your son by having Tristan here get us out of our little situation._ ’

Nathan comforted his wife in silence for a few minutes in silence. “We can talk to him, yes? Like concerned parents would?”

‘ _That shouldn_ _’t be a problem. But if you go home and baby him, it’ll “skew his path away from the proper future”, or so I’ve been told. You can show concern, but he needs to be able to move on from what happened._ ’

Tristan sat down on the bed, utterly confused.

Draya hopped up next to him and whispered, “I’m not the only one not following any of this, right?”

—————

“We should really take you to a hospital,” Iris said to Cheren. “Your wrist is looking pretty bad.”

“Not until we find my friend. I’ll be fine,” he said, still consciously trying to avoid moving his right arm any more than needed.

The two moved slowly through the crowd that had gathered for the rally that Team Plasma was giving in the park. Iris and Cheren both silently wished that something would mercifully go wrong with the speaker system.

Cheren scanned the throngs of people that stood closer to the stage, trying to spot any of Bianca’s identifying features. Her bright blond hair, the color of her blouse, anything. “If she would just answer my calls, we wouldn’t have to look around like this.”

“Well, your stubbornness won’t get you anywhere,” said Iris behind him. “Just ask someone. Here,” she tapped the shoulder of one of the many spectators around them and got their attention. “Hey, mister? Have you seen my friend? A blond girl wearing a white skirt and a green hat?”

“Yes, you just missed her.”

“What do you mean, ‘missed her’?” Cheren repeated, turning to the stranger.

“Yeah, she started freaking out about how her Pokémon had gone missing. She ran on stage before the show started and asked the crowd to help her find it,” the older man said. “Then, Ghetsis—the guy speaking right now—he managed to get these three guys to help her and she went off with them.”

“Oh no…” Cheren’s heart dropped at the mere mention of “Three”.

“What?” Iris asked.

“These men, what did they look like!? No— Where did they go? How long ago was this?” Cheren bombarded him with questions.

“Uh,” the man backed away a few steps, “I think they went that way, towards 46th street. It was just before the rally actually started, so about ten minutes ago?”

Cheren immediately took off, running as quickly as he could through the crowd. He could hear the booming voice of Team Plasma’s leader behind him. He could also hear Iris struggling to keep up with him as he ran even faster, away from the center of the grassy area. The only thing he paid any attention to was the throbbing pain in his wrist, and the fear of what fate could be awaiting his friend.

“Those three,” he said under his breath. “It has to be them!”

—————

“You’re insane.” Tristan stood up from the bed and made to walk out of the lighthouse’s basement.

“Where are you going?” Nathan asked him, grabbing his shoulder. “You heard Victini; it’s up to you get us out of this mess.”

“And what kind of alternate reality did he show you makes you think that I can actually _do_ that?” Tristan asked. “Team Plasma’s somehow whipped up a maelstrom just to get a good shot at capturing him. What can I possibly do against that!?”

‘ _It_ _’s not about what you can do,_ ’ Victini floated over to Tristan, blocking his way outside. ‘ _It_ _’s what_ we _can do_ — _with you, your Pok_ _émon, and my help._ ’

“And just what _is_ that? Huh?” Tristan yelled at the levitating Pokémon. “I’m not really up to speed on the urban legends and myths surrounding you, so if you’ve really got some magical cure-all that can help us stop Team Plasma from busting down those doors with all of the power they’ve brought with them to take you away, I’m _all ears_.”

The basement fell silent after Tristan finished his short rant. It was Draya who had picked up on the gravity of it all. “Hey, everyone! Listen!”

At her request, the humans in the room turned their heads to try and better catch whatever Draya had noticed.

“I don’t hear nothin’,” Obidiah said, grumbling. “What’s got you worrying?”

“Nothing? Really?” Draya said, looking even to Victini. “Oh come on! The storm! I can’t hear it anymore!”

It was true. Since the unnatural weather had appeared, it had been very loud, even inside the lighthouse’s basement. With its strong winds and long bouts of thunder and lightning, it was truly intimidating to be trapped in the swirling chaos. But now, the only sound the four of them could discern from where they were was the low din of the lights above their heads.

Pushing Victini aside, Tristan ran up the stairs to the main lobby of the lighthouse. Even so close to the outside, Tristan could hear no more than a slight rumble of thunder. Feeling optimistic, Tristan unlocked the doors, throwing them open. He held onto the hope that they had been mistaken about Team Plasma, that the freak storm was nothing more than that; that they weren’t coming here to capture the Pokémon of victory.

What Tristan saw shattered that hope.

The wall of clouds was still there, turning and rumbling ominously. The storm raged on all around the island, but the immediate area surrounding the lighthouse was bathed in sunlight. Above, the clouds swirled and made an opening high in the sky. The lighthouse was in the very center of the eye of the storm.

Offshore, less than one hundred yards away from the steps that led up to the lighthouse’s doors, a black submarine had surfaced next to one of the few docks set up on the island for boats to come and go from. Filing out of the submersible, one by one, Team Plasma members stepped onto the dock and began marching toward the lighthouse.

As the first few in line noticed Tristan standing in the doorway, they began to run.

Tristan slammed and locked the door, planting his back against it if in some way it would help prevent intrusion a second longer.

“What am I going to do?” he asked himself. He slowly slid to the floor, staring at his hands in the dark.

“I can’t do this…”

—————

“I can _totally_ do this!” Chili said, smiling wide. He led the group with a confidant stride. “Don’t you worry, Miss Bianca!”

The four walked down a less-than-occupied road in Castelia City, looking for Bianca’s lost Pignite, Chao. The Striaton City triplets were determined to keep the group’s spirits high. The three did everything they could to help make it seem that their goal could just be around the next corner.

“I’m really glad you guys are here,” Bianca said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d certainly be in lesser company,” Cress said, tossing his hair to the side with a flick of his neck.

“So why were you three at Team Plasma’s rally today?” Bianca asked. The question had initially come across her mind when she first saw them when she was on stage, but the hope of finding her lost Pokémon pushed it to the back of her mind.

“We weren’t, not really,” Cilan answered. “We were actually just passing through the park when we heard your call for help over the loud speakers. Personally, I don’t care much for Team Plasma.”

“You shouldn’t,” Bianca said. “They might seem like nice people at first, but they’ve done some awful things.” Bianca had been holding her Munna’s Poké ball in her hand since they had begun walking. A tiny part of her feared that it might disappear if she were to let go of it.

“You know,” Chili called back to the three trailing behind him, “I’ve got an idea. Central Plaza might be the center of this city, but it’s not where it began. There’s still a small, out of the way, enclosed park in the city. I’ve heard people say that Pokémon tend to gather there because people hardly go there anymore.”

“You think my Chao went there? But he wouldn’t even know where it is,” Bianca said.

“No, but I’ll bet if your Pokémon got lost, it would go somewhere it felt safe; someplace a lot of Pokémon think is safe.”

“Well, if you think it’s worth a shot, let’s go! And let’s hurry!”

Chili nodded and looked up an electronic map of Castelia City on his XTransceiver, looking quickly for the place he had heard about. He glanced up at his brothers, receiving a knowing nod of agreement. He urged the others and Bianca to follow him, taking a confusing path of side streets and back alleys.

Chili stopped, kneeling down on the sidewalk and inspected what looked like a Pignite’s footprint, which only increased Bianca’s optimistic urging. They were on the right track, it appeared.

One or two missed turns, a double-back, and an almost violent confrontation with a rough-looking street gang ended up taking up more of their time. The appearance of a flock of Pidove flying over their heads however seemed like that they were near their destination.

The park itself—which appeared a few more blocks down the small alley they were on—was little more than a single plot of land, gently sloping upward to the trunk of a lone tree that stood tall, looking very out of place surrounded by the tall buildings of the city.

Sitting on the grass, surrounded by a few concerned looking Buneary and Rattata, was Bianca’s Pignite.

“Chao!” Bianca yelled, running into the small plot of green land. The Pignite’s ears perked upward, turning toward the sound of his trainer’s voice. He leapt to his feet and ran towards her, jumping into her arms as they met on the grassy field. They both cried together in joy, hugging each other tightly.

“My, it looks like the poor creature got lost after all,” Cress noted.

“Chao, what were you thinking? Wandering off like that,” Bianca scolded. “I was scared half to death.”

Her Pokémon sniffled and shook his head, shrugging.

“You… don’t know?” Bianca asked. Chao nodded emphatically. “But we’re almost on the other side of the city, how did you just get here?”

Another shrug was her answer.

“Truly, a peculiar situation,” Cilan said, walking forward onto the grass.

“Indeed,” Chili said, following his brother. Cress did the same.

Bianca looked behind her, staring up at the three brothers advancing on her.

“What are you…? Oh my god!” Bianca ducked, holding her Pignite close to her chest.

—————

Tristan felt the pounding on the doors, slow and heavy. He imagined that, just outside the lighthouse, Team Plasma must have been doing everything in their power to get into the building. All of their efforts for the capture of the little psychic rodent in the basement. They had somehow conjured up a storm to seclude the island from the rest of the world, and arrived via submarine. He had to admit, it was a great strategy.

And against all of that, Tristan was supposedly meant to stop it.

“What can I do against such relentless determination?” Tristan asked. He was no longer alone in the lobby of the lighthouse.

Obidiah Drake had come up from the basement and found Tristan silently sulking on the floor. The old man had listened to what Tristan had described to him about the situation outside.

“The only thing you can do, boy.” Obidiah picked Tristan up by his shoulders, bringing him to his feet. “Meet ‘em head-on. I know you might not think it now, but you got it in you to beat these Plasma freaks. Victini’s confident that you can.

“I’ve seen what Victini’s capable of,” he went on. “You’ll just have to see for yourself. He can find the greatness inside anyone, and make it better. Believe me; he doesn’t pick losers.”

Tristan felt another tremor from the activity outside, along with a jolt of fear and urgency.

“What if—?” he started to ask, but Obidiah dragged him towards the staircase to the basement.

“It’s too late for ‘what if’s now, boy! It’s time you accepted your place in this world! When someone challenges your way of life and threatens your ideals, you fight back!”

Tristan stumbled a few steps down the stairs before catching himself on the wall. Turning around, he looked up to see Obidiah closing the heavy metal door that blocked off the basement’s stairwell from the rest of the lighthouse.

“I’ll hold these goons off while you get your head in the game,” said Obidiah. He slammed the door shut and locked it.

The dim lights that led down the stairs to the basement’s secret room were all that accompanied Tristan’s slow walk back down them.

“My place in this world?” repeated Tristan as he neared the underground room. “When someone threatens my ideals…”

The Relmsteads were engrossed in conversation with Victini when he returned. Nathan had a few different kinds of Poké Balls in his hands, showing off the various colored spheres for a reason Tristan could only guess at.

‘ _These are pretty!_ ’ Victini said. ‘ _Hand-made, you said? Who makes them?_ ’

“Will you please just pick one?” Nathan asked, annoyed. “I really don’t see why _this_ matters.”

‘ _Hey, I_ _’ve never had one before. I want it to at least look good,_ ’ Victini turned and noticed Tristan standing in the doorway. He quickly picked a yellow and black Poké Ball with a red “v” on it, and floated over to Tristan. ‘ _Welcome back, soldier._ ’

“Reporting for duty,” said Tristan.

—————

A pair of great wings beat down above the four humans standing in the grass, slowing the large Braviary’s descent as it came low to the ground. The great bird cawed loudly, driving the three men away from the cowering girl. Off the giant bird jumped a young man, landing between Bianca and her company.

Cheren rose up and held a Poké Ball towards the three men, ready to defend himself.

“Back away from my friend you—!” He stopped himself, unsure of what he was seeing. The three men that he saw weren’t the ones he was expecting. He heard Iris land on the ground beside him. Her reaction to who they had just intercepted was much warmer.

“You guys!” Iris smiled, running to the three brothers. “I didn’t know you were in town too!”

Cheren stood back, lowering his left arm, and watched Iris reacquaint herself with the three Gym Leaders of Striation City.

“Cheren?”

He turned around to Bianca, who was still kneeling on the ground holding her Pokémon.

“Bianca,” he said, kneeling down to her level. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine; now at least.” She stood up. “But what about you? What happened to your mission?”

“It… didn’t go too well,” he said.

“Oh my god, your wrist!” Bianca said, gently holding Cheren’s right arm. “It looks broken!”

“Don’t even bother, I tried telling him to get it looked at, but he was hellbent on finding you,” Iris said as she walked up. “Hi, by the way. I’m Iris.”

“Uh, I’m Bianca. Hi,” she gingerly waved. Chao walked right up to the younger girl and seemed to take a liking to her.

“She doesn’t seem to be in danger, Cheren.” Iris crossed her arms, annoyed. “Don’t tell me we rushed all the way out here for nothing.”

“‘Nothing’ is a blessing as far as I’m concerned,” Cheren said, looking over his shoulder back at the three brothers smiling innocently at him.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Cheren,” Cilan said. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Cress joined in. “How has your stay in the city been so far?”

“Stressful, to say the least,” Cheren said.

“Well, do try and watch your step,” Chili said to him. “You’ll never know who you might run into in this city.” He looked to Bianca, smiling. “I’m glad we could help you find your Pokémon. If you need any help with anything in the future, you’ll know where to find us. We’re just in the town for the day, and should start heading home soon.”

“See you guys later!” Iris cheerily said back.

“Farewell,” the three brothers said in unison. They turned on the spot, and walked out of the park and down a narrow road.

—————

“Okay,” Tristan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding. “We’re kind of stuck in a bind here. That’s obvious.”

“I certainly hope there’s more to your wonderous analytical abilities…” Nathan said under his breath. His wife elbowed him hard in the side.

“I’m sorry!” Tristan yelled, sitting down in the rocking chair in the room, reminding him of the old man holding his ground upstairs. “I’m trying to get a handle on everything. I just… I can’t think straight! I’ve hardly slept! I had my own problems going on before and now all of this is too damn much!”

Tristan felt the surprisingly tight grip of a Servine hug his side. He looked down at her sympathetic eyes, seeing them shine blue for a moment. He knew the strength he was feeling was her true form, hidden from the others in the room. He held her in silence for a moment.

‘ _That actually sounds like something I can help with._ ’ Victini disrupted the standstill in conversation and flew in front of Tristan. ‘ _If I give you some energy; it_ _’ll be like you just had the best sleep, meal, and pep talk of your life in a single moment. The ultimate kickstart._ ’

“Is it safe?” Tristan asked, remembering the display of power Victini showed them all earlier.

‘ _Well_ _… yes and no. If I’m not careful, I could give you enough energy to burn out your heart. But I’ll just give you a little taste._ ’

“Well, let’s go with that,” Tristan said as he stood. “I’m tired of being tired.”

Victini held out a hand, on his index finger rested a tiny pinprick of light. The Mythical Pokémon touched Tristan’s forehead, bestowing him a special gift.

—————

Tristan’s eyes widened. He stood frozen in place; he couldn’t move. At least it felt like he couldn’t.

A burning, electric sensation spilled from the point where Victini had touched him and cascaded right through his entire body. His bones felt as if they were on fire. His mind raced; he couldn’t breathe. Tristan’s body began to shake, almost imperceptibly. He tried, but it hurt to blink.

Tristan could control his eyes now, darting them around the room. Everything he saw was in slow motion. It took minutes for the married couple to blink at him. Victini still had his finger pressed to his forehead. Slowly, he watched Draya’s expression turn from reassuring to worried.

He could move his arms, he discovered, but they were terribly heavy. Tristan’s hands flexed sluggishly, curling into fists that seemed to pull the rest of his arms down.

He could feel gravity on an acute level, the constant tug pulling him downward at all times. To him, it looked as if time had been slowed down exponentially, but it was merely his mind being augmented by Victini’s energy. Tristan perceived everything at an inhuman speed, allowing him to watch and take in every single motion and detail with excruciating accuracy.

“Are… you… al… right?” Tristan heard Draya ask, long and drawn out.

Wanting to ensure that he was alright, Tristan slowly reached down to pet her scaly head.

—————

“I’m-fine-it’s-just-this-energy-is-really-messing-with-my-head-but-I-feel-great-actually,” Tristan said, swiftly smacking Draya in the face with the back of his hand.

Purple lights flashed around the small underground room as Draya’s illusion shattered against the sharp and sudden impact. Her tall, true form sat recoiled and clutching her snout with her paws. Her fur stood on end. Draya’s eyes looked into Tristan’s, utter shock and betrayal pouring forth.

The Relmsteads, Victini and Tristan all stood silently for a tense moment.

“Oh-my-god. Draya-I’m-sorry!” Tristan tried his best to slow down his speech. He moved slowly toward his Pokémon, only to have her back away, hiding herself as much as she could in her long mane. “I’m-sorry, I-didn’t-mean to-hit-you. I… mean-it.”

‘ _Ah-ha! I knew you weren_ _’t right!_ ’ Victini cheered, clapping as he floated around the room.

“Shut up!” Draya bounded over Tristan, leaping into the air from where she was huddled. She swiped at the air where Victini was flying, baring her teeth as she yelled. “You little rat! This is your fault!”

“Draya, no!”

Tristan sprang up, quickly intercepting his Zoroark as she chased her prey around the room. His mind still processed everything around him at faster-than-normal speeds, letting him get in front of Draya as she moved to tackle Victini. He grabbed her arms, gripping her tightly. Tristan pushed her back against the concrete wall as gently as he was able, finding he could overpower her without much effort. Victini’s energy was already wearing down, he felt. He needed to dissolve this situation as quickly as possible.

“Let go!” Draya snarled at him. “If he wants to see what I really am, I’ll show him!”

Tristan brought his head to her ear, and whispered, “Please, we don’t have time for this. Just let it go for now.”

“But he made me— I’m _exposed_ ,” she whined. She rested her head against his shoulder, the contact calming her down somewhat.

“And that’s not his fault,” Tristan argued. “If I had actually gotten sleep last night, I wouldn’t have needed his energy boost. I’m the one that hit you, Draya. I’m sorry, but don’t waste time being mad at him. We have too much to worry about.”

“But he’s _such_ an asshole…” Draya said, looking defeated.

“Don’t do it for his sake then,” Tristan let go of her arms, feeling the last of his excess energy wane. He put his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. “We all need to cooperate to get out of this. Protecting him is the best thing for all of us.”

Draya glared over Tristan’s shoulder at Victini silently snickering at her, hovering high above her reach. She growled quietly, coming to her inevitable decision. She looked back to Tristan, her human. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips and rested her forehead against his. “You’re right,” she said. “I’ll kick his winged little butt later.”

Tristan hugged her for a moment, smiling. As he turned around to address the group, he was met with even more strange looks.

“I really have no idea how to react to we just saw,” Nathan Relmstead said, crossing his arms.

Mariah had an equally shocked look on her face, murmuring, “Different part of the world, honey.”

Nathan just shrugged the comment off.

“Okay, yes, right.” Tristan blushed, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get a plan going, shall we? We do need to repel Team Plasma sometime tonight.”

‘ _Goodie, and now that Chocolate Love over there is finished lying to us all, we can all start trusting each other._ ’ Victini came down from his elevated position, ‘ _Now, I know_ Tristan _is, but are you two Pok_ _émon trainers? Any good powerhouses we can throw at these guys?_ ’ Victini asked Mariah and Nathan.

“Sorry, no,” Mariah said. “Our son is… but, you actually know that, don’t you?”

“We’re scientists, not fighters,” said Nathan.

‘ _Fun._ ’ Victini sighed, floating over to Draya and laying down on her head. ‘ _Hey, you_ _’re comfy!_ ’

Draya growled and crossed her arms, doing her best to ignore him.

“Well, I’ll bring what I can to the table,” Tristan said. He pulled his two other occupied Poké Balls from his belt, releasing his Whirlipede, Cole, and his newest addition, Jeremiah, the Sewaddle that N had suggested he take with him. In the back of his mind, Tristan made the mental note to diversify his Pokémon team a bit more.

“Ugh, bugs…” Draya and Victini said together, the former glaring up at the rodent sitting on her head.

“Don’t be mean,” Tristan said, looking at Draya.

“Where’d you get that one anyway?” Draya asked, pointing to the newcomer on the team. “I don’t remember seeing you catch him.”

“It was after N and I found you yesterday. He asked me to take care of him.”

“Why’d you say yes?” asked Draya.

‘ _Because he needed an actual Grass type, I_ _’ll bet,_ ’ Victini poked at Draya’s head.

“Do you _want_ to get punched?”

“Hey!” Nathan raised his voice. “Let’s keep the discussion positive! We’re on a time limit here; there’s no telling how long we have before this terrorist group breaks in here.”

Tristan sat down on the bed as Draya got reacquainted with her teammates. He noticed that she was handling herself remarkable well around the other humans in the room as well. Victini floated over next to him, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

‘ _Obbie won_ _’t last long alone up there, you know,_ ’ he said. _‘I hope that spark of energy got more than your libido up and running._ ’

Tristan’s eyes shifted focus from the kneeling Zoroark to elsewhere in the room as he responded. “Sorry. I’ve been thinking, trust me. My head’s clear now, thank you.”

‘ _Not a lot to work with, is it?_ ’ Victini asked, gesturing to his three Pokémon.

He didn’t want to admit it, not wanting to sound like he was putting his own Pokémon down, but Victini was right. Tristan just didn’t have a lot power at his disposal.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Tristan said to the room. “Don’t leave everything to the trainer with just two badges to his name.”

“Have we ruled out just trying to use brute force? Victini is a Legendary Pokémon, after all,” Nathan said.

‘ _I don_ _’t really have the power to. Plus, that’d be more of a last resort option. I could, maybe, if I knew what we were facing outside._ ’

“What about… her?” Mariah asked, pointing to Draya.

The Zoroark’s ears flicked, she looked up at the woman. “What _about_ me?”

“You make illusions; you can make anything you envision, right?”

“I guess so,” Draya shrugged. “What will having me disguising myself do though?”

Victini floated over in front of Draya and grabbed her face. ‘ _You fuzzy idiot, where_ _’s your creativity? You can make_ an-y-thing _! You_ _’re a proverbial multi-tool of tomfoolery!_ ’

“Take your little paws off of me, or I’ll take them off of you…” Draya growled.

Tristan stepped up, pushing Victini aside before harm came to him. “No, he’s right. Draya, you showed me on the boat ride here that you can cast illusions apart from disguising yourself. We can use that to get Plasma off the island.”

“How, exactly?” Draya asked.

“Well, we need to get Plasma to leave this island without getting down here. We need to scare them off somehow; making it so they _don_ _’t_ come back would be preferable...” Nathan said.

“We could make it look like the lighthouse was burning down, maybe?” Mariah suggested.

‘ _They wouldn_ _’t go for that. They could just wait for the fake fire to die down and find us out. Plus, this place is mostly brick and concrete._ ’

“I don’t really know how to do much more than an image that moves occasionally,” Draya said. “I don’t think I can do what you’re asking me to do.”

‘ _That_ _’s not a problem,_ ’ Victini said, grinning. ‘ _One touch from me and you_ _’ll have the power to make anything you can think of. Your illusions will be bigger, louder, even last for a bit while you’re not even casting them! Actually, I don’t know about that last one, but it sounded cool._ ’

Tristan began pacing the room, toying with ideas for their proposed illusory escape plan. He stopped in front of a small bookshelf next to Victini’s bed, stooping down and picking up a book that caught his eye.

Its title was “Two Brothers, Two Dragons”, a children’s book with bright and colorful pictures on its pages. In it the two brothers, one older and one younger, found two dragon eggs, which hatched soon after. Each brother had different ideas on how to raise the dragons they had found. Their fighting eventually led to the newborn dragons following in their footsteps, fighting each other over small disagreements.

As the two brothers and dragons grew up, their fighting grew as well. The younger brother and the black dragon hated his older brother with the white dragon, and after years of fighting, both brothers were left without their beloved dragons. The two great beasts had destroyed each other in their fiercest battle of all. In the rubble of their battle, two eggs remained; one white and one black.

The two brothers each took an egg, and departed from each other forever.

“Draya,” Tristan said, bringing the book over to the rest of the group. “Can you do this?”

—————

“I bet you think you’re clever, old man,” the Team Plasma officer said. His gray outfit was much more conservative than the hooded attire of the grunts trying to pry open the metal door, wearing a long sleeved, high collar uniform with Team Plasma’s insignia. He stood with his arms folded, looming over the old man lying tied up on the floor.

Thunder boomed from outside, with rain occasionally blowing into the lighthouse from the wide open door.

“If you were to hide such a treasure here where no one could appreciate its worth, no one would really think to look for it underground. At least, not until _we_ thought of it.”

“What I think,” Obidiah said, “is that you’ll never get what you’re after.”

“Amusing,” the officer said. Lightning crashed outside, lighting up the lobby for a moment. “And what makes you think so?”

“Sir!” A grunt yelled from the door. “We’ve got it open!”

“Perfect.”

The metal door leading to the lighthouse’s basement slowly creaked open. A Team Plasma grunt looked down the dark stairway, unable to see anything. One pulled a flashlight out from his pocket, and slowly descended with two more grunts following.

“I have to say,” the officer gloated, “I’m particularly excited to have this Legendary Victory Pokémon. His fairytale was a favorite of mine as a child.”

A great rumble shook the lighthouse, dust falling from the ceiling. A deafening roar reverberated up from the stairwell, nearly shaking the door from its hinges. The three Team Plasma members came back to the ground floor, screaming as they ran as fast as they could.

“It’s not Victini sir! We were wrong!” one of the grunts yelled as he ran by.

The officer, shaken but curious, moved over to the metal doorway. He strained his eyes as he looked down the dark stairwell, not seeing what scared his soldiers right away. Two glowing red lights could be seen far below him.

The floor began to shake again. The concrete began to crack and rise. The glowing red lights slowly moved up the crumbling passage way. They were the enraged eyes of a dragon; scales as black as the night sky, teeth visible as it snarled. It pushed itself up through the floor into the lobby of the lighthouse. From its shoulders grew two pairs of heavily muscled appendages that featured wide, fin-like wings. In addition, the lower pair of arms also ended with fearsome claws. Its legs and large, conical tail slowly revealed itself from underneath the ground. Revealed, the massive dragon stood hunched beneath the already tall ceiling.

Leaning down close to the Team Plasma officer, who was now stricken with fear, the deep-black dragon snorted hot air, blowing the human back a few steps.

“Z… Zekrom…?”

As the officer turned and ran, the black dragon roared after him, breaking through the doorway and out into the winding storm. A mighty blast of fire spilled forth from the beast’s mouth, scorching the ground after the tiny human. The Team Plasma officer ran into the open door of the submarine, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Dive! Now! Top priority is survival—we need to tell Lord Ghetsis that one of the Heroes is active! Call off the twins!”

The engines started up, and the submersible chugged away from its docked position and dived soon after.

The great black dragon roared again, spewing fire into the sky. It took to the air on its small wings, flying into the dying storm clouds that surrounded the island.

A few moments later, the sun broke through the rest of the clouds, leaving only a bright blue sky.

—————

“That’s it, Draya. Keep it going,” Tristan said, petting his Zoroark’s back. “Now send him running back to the sub.”

She had her eyes closed; one arm outstretched toward the ceiling of their room, the other grasping Victini’s little hand. Draya’s lips curled in a snarl, roaring as the dragon did.

“Now send it flying away. We need to make sure they don’t come back here looking for our black-scaled friend.”

When Draya opened her eyes, they shined a magnificent purple as she continued casting her illusion. “Victini, you say you can make this thing last after I let go? I’m running out of range here.”

‘ _Sure, I_ _’ll give you some more juice._ ’

“Ah!” Draya yelled, her dragon illusion roaring with her outside. “Okay, up you go…” Draya let her arm fall down, collapsing against Tristan. “I’m not sure how far it’ll go, but I saw Plasma leave. Heh-eh, they practically shat themselves…” she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

“Draya, are you okay?” Tristan asked. She murmured in her sleep, wrapping her arms around his chest.

‘ _She_ _’s just exhausted. Give it a little bit and you’ll crash too from that small pick-me-up I gave you. I helped her create that big illusion, but I was also giving that illusion real power to wreck up the lighthouse. Her species aren’t meant to make anything solid, but we needed to make it look believable that Zekrom just crawled his way out from here._ ’

“Zekrom?” Tristan asked.

‘ _You know, the dragon your girlfriend just made appear out of thin air?_ ’ Victini tilted his head. _‘You_ do _know that children_ _’s book is more than just a story, right?_ ’

“I never really read into ancient myths as having much truth behind them,” Tristan said. “But then again, _you_ exist.”

‘ _Sometimes you need to believe in stories and legends,_ ’ Victini said. ‘ _Now, if Team Plasma is smart, which I seriously hope not, they_ _’ll be long gone and maybe even following that ghost Draya conjured up. In that time, we all need to get out of here._ ’

“What the hell was that!?” Obidiah said, stumbling down what remained of stairs and into the room. “What was that huge dragon just now? What happened to the lighthouse?!”

‘ _Oh, hey Obbie! Why_ _’re you all tied up?_ ’

—————

“Ooooh, what’s that?” Bianca asked, pointing up into the sky.

Cheren looked up as they walked back towards the center of Castelia City. A Pokémon could be seen flying high above the buildings. It flew behind a stray cloud just as it blocked out the sun, but the glare from the sun as the cloud passed by made it impossible to follow.

“I can’t tell,” he said, squinting. “I can’t find it again.”

“It looked like a dragon, but…” Iris said, contemplative.

The three walked along one of Castelia’s main boulevards, coming back from the Pokémon Center. Bianca walked holding her Pignite’s little hand, making sure he didn’t wander off again.

Cheren wore a cast on his right arm; thankful for the mild pain killers he now had dulling the ache from his wrist. He kept a watchful eye on everyone he and his group passed on the street. Two misfortunes befalling them in the same day was too much of a pattern for him to ignore. He could only imagine Tristan had run into trouble on his end of the mission as well.

They were on their way back to the park to investigate the Team Plasma rally now that Bianca’s Pokémon had been found.

As they neared the grassy section of the park, Cheren could hear that same voice carrying over the large crowd.

“Jeez, that man can talk for a while, can’t he?”

“—Our King will soon show himself to you, my people! He is humble, wise, and great! He will lead our great nation out from the darkness that plagues our lives day and night.” Ghetsis called to the people below him. He looked up, gazing over the masses eagerly watching his every move, hanging on his every word. He smiled, seeing Cheren, Bianca, and Iris, Bianca’s Pignite in tow.

“Now, Miss Bianca! I cannot say how lovely it is to see you again!” He raised an arm, waving at her. The crowd turned on Ghetsis’ command. “And how lovely it is that you found your lost Pokémon. My worried heart can rest easy, young lady.”

The crowed exploded with cheers, chanting Ghetsis’ name. Chanting Team Plasma’s name.

Cheren stood in shock, taking all of it in.

“They used you…” he said, turning to Bianca. “You just made everything worse! He just turned you into a poster-child for Team Plasma!”

“I— I didn’t mean to!” Bianca said, flustered. “It’s not my fault!”

Cheren turned, and angrily walked off. “Today was a colossal failure. We’ve only succeeded in helping Team Plasma’s public image.”

—————

On the ferry ride back to the city, Tristan sat next to Nathan and Mariah. He held Draya’s Poké Ball in his hand, knowing that her sleeping form resided within. He silently thanked her for managing to get them out of their near-impossible situation.

Beside him, Nathan held the Level Ball that held the Legendary Victory Pokémon, whose psychic voice escaped the confines of the metal sphere.

‘ _I_ _’m going to have to lay low for a while. Plus I have a pretty good idea when I’ll need to meet your son._ ’

“We’ll hold onto you until then,” Nathan said. “And I have to admit, you have a tremendous ability. There’s no doubt you’ll be able to help our son.”

‘ _I hope he likes Fire types too._ ’

“Thank you for your help, Tristan,” Mariah said, smiling. “I don’t know if we would be here right now if Team Plasma had their way today.”

‘ _I do, but no one likes to see spoilers,_ ’ Victini’s voice said. ‘ _Take care, Tristan. You_ _’ve got a lot on your plate._ ’

“I know. Plasma’s not done yet. I can feel it.”

—————

The sun was beginning to set; the afternoon was over and the day was won, as far as Tristan was concerned.

As he opened the door to his hotel room, the fatigue hit him like a punch to the gut. He braced himself on the wall in his room, struggling to stay on his feet and keep his eyes open. He lifted Draya’s Poké Ball up, and released her sleeping form onto the bed.

Tristan lied down next to her, drifting off to sleep soon after.

The movement awoke Draya for a precious moment. Using the last of the strength she had, she pulled her trainer into her arms, cradling his head in her arms as she fell back into a deep sleep.

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	11. Internal Affairs

—————

An aging man sat in a luxurious arm chair, holding a video screen. After his lieutenant had told him what the video supposedly contained, he silently hoped he would just reprimand his underling for reporting misinformation. When the subject in question finally came on the screen, Ghetsis Harmonia clenched his left hand until the screen shook.

The video was recorded from a cell phone’s camera from a fair distance away, but it was exactly how his underling described it; a massive clawed arm burst through the doorway to the lighthouse, tearing away stone and wood to let the beast’s large body through. The black dragon let loose a torrent of flames from its maw as it chased a man clad in gray to a submarine off the coast of the island. After the vehicle sank beneath the waves, the Zekrom on the screen flew up and into the cloudy skies. The video ended and began playing again. Ghetsis sat watching it in silence for a few moments longer before speaking.

“Where is it now?” he asked, looking up to the Team Plasma administrator. He stared into the nervous man’s gaze with his one, left eye. “Surely, after failing to complete your primary objective, you spared no effort in tracking down the new target, did you not?”

“I—I apologize, it is with great regret that I must say…” the man in the gray suit averted his gaze. He couldn’t stand to look his lord in the eye any longer. “Our efforts were unsuccessful in locating the Dragon of Ideals.”

Ghetsis sighed through his nose, shaking his head.

The Sage of Plasma got up from his chair, leaving the tablet on the arm of his seat, and began to pace the room. He stopped his shuffling movements and looked out the window of the high-rise building and surveyed Castelia City as it lay out before him. The late hour of the night did not mean the city slept. Lights from businesses, cars, and people’s homes fought back the darkness, creating an unnatural glow that met his eye.

_Has one of them been active all this time? Right under our nose?_ My nose? _Impossible._

“This footage,” he said, still staring out over the city, “who did you say recorded it?”

“We do not know, my lord. There were many tourists on that island that day,” the man said, shakily. “But I will do my very best to find as many people who might have seen it firsthand.”

“No,” Ghetsis said, lowering his head. “ _You_ won’t.”

With a snap of his fingers, three shadowy figures appeared in the room, surrounding the soon-to-be-former Team Plasma member. The four of them were gone without a sound, leaving Ghetsis alone for a moment. The Shadow Triad reappeared and knelt before their High Priest, their dark deed had gone unseen.

“It—”

“—is—”

“—done,” the three said, talking in turns.

“I have tasks that need to be completed,” Ghetsis turned around and addressed his loyal vassals, speaking in a loud, authoritative tone. “First; this footage of Zekrom needs to be removed from the public eye. No copies, no trace. Second; any persons who may have been on that island need to be found, and interrogated. I won’t tolerate any information being lost due to incompetence.” He took a breath, gathering his thoughts before committing to his third order. “And last, alert our King to Zekrom’s appearance. He has failed in finding the Dragon of Truth first, and his unknown opponent now has an advantage. Our King cannot fail.”

“For our King.”

“For our cause.”

“For our lives.”

The Shadow Triad each disappeared from the room in the blink of an eye.

Ghetsis Harmonia stared at his left hand, trying to calm his shaking fingers.

_We cannot fail. I will not._

—————

Pounding on his hotel room’s door broke Tristan out of his long-needed slumber. He slowly untangled himself from Draya’s arms, finding he was still in the clothes that he wore the day before.

_Yesterday was_ _… something._

All at once, the events of the Lighthouse of Liberty Garden Island replayed in his mind. Tristan half-wondered if any of it was real; meeting a real Legendary Pokémon, Team Plasma and the freak storm that followed them, the Relmsteads, Draya conjuring the visage of another legend. Zekrom; the beast that leapt right out of a story book occupied Tristan’s dreams that night. The shine of the scales, its shape and form, all of it stuck in Tristan’s mind the way nothing else had before.

Another set of knocks snapped him back to the present. “Tristan! You need to get up!”

Cheren’s voice always seemed even more pressing and urgent early in the morning. Tristan glanced at his XTransceiver’s clock—ignoring the many missed calls he had—as he walked to the door, it was nearly seven o’clock in the morning.

He paused as he reached the door, just shy of turning the knob. Draya was still exposed; her true self lying fast asleep on the single bed in the room.

“Hold on, Cheren,” he said through the door in a tired voice. He threw off his t-shirt and opened the door a crack, “What’s going on? I’m getting dressed still.”

“I’ve called you _ten_ times! We’re wanted for questioning by the _International Police_!” Cheren said.

“What?” asked Tristan, now fully awake.

“Just hurry up and meet us in the lobby, just in case this is actually happening.”

Cheren hurried off down the hallway, leaving Tristan alone and without much of an idea what was happening. He shut the door, and quickly ran into the bathroom to take a quick shower. He found Draya now awake as he reentered the room lying on her stomach, grinning widely at his undressed self.

“What a lovely view to wake up to. You really should have woken me up, I would’ve loved to join you,” she said, rolling over. She patted the empty space on the bed next to her, longing in her eyes. “How about some ‘exercise’ before breakfast?”

“Of all the times, right now absolutely _isn_ _’t_ the time for this kind of talk,” Tristan said, ignoring her advances. He rooted though his luggage for a clean outfit, hastily combing his hair. “We need to go meet Cheren, Bianca, and apparently the police downstairs, so please, we need to get moving.”

“Alright,” she conceded, sitting upright. “But we really should stop getting pulled around like this. I’m almost at my limit on your stalling, you know. You promised.”

Tristan sighed, walking over to his Zoroark on the hotel bed. “It’s been a crazy few days and it looks like it’s not letting up. But you’re right,” he lifted her chin up to look him in the eyes. Tristan gave his Zoroark, who had him set in her sights as her ideal mate, his warmest and most sincere smile. “I did promise. Later on today, I’ll make time for ‘us’. Whatever ‘we’ are.”

Draya grinned, “You better.”

—————

Safely covered in her disguise as a Servine, and clinging to her trainer’s shoulder, Draya watched passersby as Tristan walked down to the Pokémon center’s main lobby. Here there were many humans doing many different things. She could see some eating food alone, while others did in groups.

_Humans are voluntary pack animals; some choose to be near others, but some don_ _’t. I don’t know how anyone chooses to be alone._

Some humans, who Draya assumed to be trainers, had Pokémon with them. They were either talking to them, or talking about them to other humans. She even watched two trainers exchange Pokémon with each other. She pondered how they came to agree on such a trade when she picked up the annoying droning sound Cheren’s voice.

Cheren and Bianca were seated on a section of benches along the wall in the corner of the lobby. Draya noticed a human she hadn’t met before talking to them; she was younger, had dark skin and long, purple hair. She leaned forward with her hands on her hips as she talked to Cheren. Bianca sat back, avoiding the argument they were having.

“You just need to be patient, he’ll be here,” the girl said as she crossed her arms.

“Who, are you waiting on me?” Tristan asked, catching the attention if the three of them.

“We were,” Cheren said, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. “But now we’re waiting for the police to arrive.”

“He’ll be here!” Iris insisted. “He told me to get ahold of you guys for him because—”

“That’s another thing; he’s asking a child to do his work for him.” Cheren asked. “Are you sure he’s InterPol?”

“Yes! And don’t call me a child!”

Bianca waved Tristan down to an open seat near her, leaning over to him. “They’ve been at it like this all morning. Please help.”

Draya spoke quietly, unsure of this new human. “Those two seem like they’re having fun. So, why do the police want to talk to us?”

“Well, Talking Servine, I should hope that answer is obvious.”

“If it was, I wouldn’t have asked—” Draya jumped, hiding behind Tristan’s other shoulder. A new human was now sitting in the seat next to Tristan, catching the four humans and hidden Zoroark by surprise.

“Sorry! I took a bit longer at my earlier job than I anticipated.” He stood up to take center stage of the small group. “You lot can call me ‘Looker’. I’m a member of the International Police,” he said, showing off his identification badge. He had short brown hair, spiked up a bit in front. This “Looker” was a skinny man, tall with long legs. He was wearing a brown pinstripe suit, brown tie and large brown coat to match. He smiled down at the children, waiting for their greeting. “What?” he asked finally.

“How long were you sitting there?” Cheren asked, already clearly annoyed with him.

“Well… you two were having a nice conversation, I didn’t want to interrupt it.” He turned and looked down at Draya, eyes bright. “Now _you_ , beauty. How’d you learn to speak?” he leaned forward, childlike wonder in his eyes. Looker held his chin in his hand as he stared intently at her.

“Did you train her?” Looker asked Tristan.

“Your Servine can talk?! Really?” Iris jumped in and joined Looker in his excitement. “Can you teach my Fraxure?”

“She taught herself, actually,” Tristan said, sitting upright. “She’s doesn’t do well with attention from strangers, so please don’t hover over her.”

Draya felt warmth in her chest rise as Tristan defended her. She stuck a forked tongue out at the two humans who slowly backed away from her.

“Oh, sorry. Really didn’t mean to cause a fuss.” Looker stood upright again, fixing his overcoat. “So, shall we?”

“Shall we what!?” Cheren barked, standing. “What did you call us together for?”

“Yeah, and what took you so long?” Iris asked, turning on Looker.

“I was investigating a reported suicide,” Looker said.

“Why would the International Police care about a suicide in this city?” Cheren asked.

“Because it was _reported_ as suicide.” Looker held up a finger, “And it just so happens that our ‘suicide’ was a suspected high-ranking official in an organization known as ‘Team Plasma’.” Looker nodded at the group’s collective surprised expressions. “Right! So, you three—and Iris—and talking Servine—need to come with me down to my temporary office for some questions I have regarding yesterday’s… events. If you don’t mind.”

After a few insisted questioning on Cheren’s part, the group left the Pokémon Center and walked a short distance up the road to Castelia City’s police station. Once inside, they made their way to a small, secluded office that was filled mostly with filing cabinets that served as Looker’s temporary base of operations. The operative explained because his job takes him all over the world, he never needs much space to work in, and having a more permanent location would be very inefficient.

With the five of them all in the tiny room—plus Draya’s hidden self—Looker shut the door and locked it behind them. He sat on top of the cluttered desk and crossed his arms. “Sorry, no room for chairs. This place looked bigger on the outside when I requested it. But, it’s out of the way, and we _probably_ won’t be overheard. So, there’s that.”

Draya’s true form continued to take up the same space it always did, regardless of what form she took. This left very little room for her to stand comfortably, so she clung to Tristan as closely as she could manage without nudging the other humans. She felt a little disappointed that her illusions fooled even Tristan’s sense of touch, leaving him unaware of the closeness the two were sharing.

“It’s fine!” Bianca said, forcing a smile. It was clear that she was trying her best not to show her unease being closer to her friends than she felt comfortable. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, to be brief, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your individual interactions with Team Plasma yesterday.” Looker pulled out a small notepad and a pencil, ready to write down the answers he sought. “I don’t want a narrative, just a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will work, but feel free to elaborate if you feel something is important. Now, Iris here tells me that she ran into you, Cheren, coming out of a suspected Team Plasma hideout, of sorts. Did you find anything of interest there?”

“Yes,” Cheren said. “I found a mostly empty storage warehouse; whatever they had in there was already shipped out before I could find out what. But as I left, I was ambushed by these three assassins. They called themselves the ‘Shadow’ of Team Plasma.” He held up his right arm, wrapped in a cast. “The Shadow Triad are very dangerous. One of them broke my wrist with his bare hands. They can move in the blink of an eye. Definitely _not_ normal. Superhuman.”

“They let you go?” asked Looker. “Not very assassin-y.”

“They threatened my friends and I,” Cheren said, looking at Tristan and Bianca. “They told me that we should stop interfering with their plans, or…”

“‘Or’ indeed,” Looker said. “So, here is where Iris found you, alone and beaten. Did this Shadow Triad of yours cause any other grief for you?”

“Yes!” Bianca spoke up. “O-Or maybe? I was walking around near Central Plaza, waiting for the Plasma rally to start—I tried stopping it, but—anyway, my Pignite disappeared from my side. He didn’t even know how he got to where we found him, which was blocks away. If these Shadow people can teleport, they can probably steal people and Pokémon away too!”

“Very good,” Looker agreed. “Bad for us maybe, but good guess, Bianca.”

“We already know all of that,” Cheren said bitterly. “We know that Plasma used Bianca and her Pignite just to make them a public spectacle. Ghetsis did nothing and the crowd cheered him on like he found her Pokémon himself.”

“I said I was sorry!” Bianca said. “Are you still blaming me for what happened?”

“I’m not angry at you, but it is still your fault for letting your own Pokémon get taken from you in broad daylight,” Cheren said. “You just need to be more careful.”

“You weren’t there!” Bianca shouted, causing everyone to back away. “He was just _gone_! There wasn’t anything I could have done, and you can’t blame me for not being ready for something I didn’t know was coming! You got beat by the Shadow Triad too!”

Cheren met Bianca’s teary-eyed stare with a blank expression, then averted his gaze when he didn’t have any comment to follow up with.

“Okay,” Looker broke the silence. “That ties up most of my blank pages,” he wrote a few quick notes before looking up at Tristan. “Which brings me to act three of our play; Liberty Garden Island.”

Draya felt Tristan’s shoulders tense. She looked around the room; everyone now focused on the two of them.

“Servine, feel free to speak up if you’re up to it,” Looker added. “Now, most eye-witness accounts about what went on yesterday are the same. ‘A huge storm came out of nowhere, we were taking shelter in the visitor’s center, and then the storm went away.’” Looker cleared his throat. “I’ve gotten very few bits of information past that, even word of a video recording of a large black dragon seen fleeing the scene, but unfortunately, no one has been able to find the footage since I was told about it.”

“I saw it!” Iris perked up, grabbing the attention of the room. “Not the footage, the real thing! A black dragon flew over the city yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t see it for very long. It came from the island?”

“I’d love to find that out for sure. So, Tristan,” Looker turned back, “what happened there? Did a large dragon really ‘burst out of the lighthouse and fly away’?”

“Yes,” Tristan said, firmly. “But I—”

“Okay, thank you all for your time,” Looker said, folding up his notepad and placing it in his coat. “I believe I have everything I need to continue my investigation for some time, but I do hope you will all consider working with me again if I should ask it of you.”

“Wait,” Tristan said. “There’s more to what happened than just that, though.”

“Oh I already know what happened on the island, down in its basement, and what may or may not have _left_ that island with a certain married couple,” Looker said, smiling. “I only needed to know whether or not a ‘large, black, dragon-like figure’ was seen fleeing the island.” He stood up from the desk and shook Tristan’s hand. “Innocent people have gone missing. People that I believe saw what happened on the island. I’m glad I managed to find you before the same happened to you.”

“What about—?”

Looker cut him off, “They’re safe. Don’t worry.”

The disguised Zoroark assumed Tristan was asking about the Relmsteads, and their precious cargo. “Then what’s happening to these people?” she asked, delighting the detective.

“Now there’s a question I’ll have to answer for myself. It would appear, on the surface, that Team Plasma may be attempting to cover up the ‘incident’ on Liberty Garden Island as best they can, for reasons I can’t quite guess. They don’t want anything about what happened making too much of a public impact.”

“What _did_ happen?” Cheren asked, insistent. “We’re all in this together, and we need as much information on what Team Plasma is after as we can.”

Looker crossed his arms, leaning back on the edge of the desk, “Well, Tristan? Want to bring the rest of the group up to speed?”

Draya could feel Tristan take a big breath, “Alright, but bear with me. This could take a while.”

—————

“…and then the ground beneath us began shaking, the floor cracked, and it came roaring from the basement of the lighthouse.” Bianca, Cheren, and Iris all waited on baited breath for Tristan to continue his recollection of the events on Liberty Garden Island. During his tale, he would notice that Looker would sneak a knowing smile at his direction, and jot down a small note in his notepad every time Tristan lied about what really happened. He felt it necessary to omit anything that would reveal Victini, or Draya’s true identity as a Zoroark and her illusion casting abilities. How Looker seemed to know the truth, Tristan couldn’t know.

He felt conflicted about lying to his trusted friends about what the three of them could consider their shared crusade against Team Plasma. Tristan couldn’t imagine they were any risk of leaking the information to anyone, or that they would be a danger if they knew, but he felt that Victini’s mission—whatever it may be—needed to stay secret.

“So, that big dragon was lying asleep beneath the lighthouse,” Iris said. “Team Plasma must’ve been hunting it for some reason.”

“Any idea what it might’ve been?” Bianca asked Iris.

“What Tristan described—large, black, big claws, breathes fire—it doesn’t really match up with anything I can remember right now. I can’t think of what it might’ve been. That lighthouse was built over two-hundred years ago…” Iris drifted off.

Tristan caught Looker’s eye, who seemed to understand his concern.

“Well then, I think we’ve all spent enough time crammed in here for a few lifetimes,” Looker said, pushing open the door to the tiny office. “You all should do you your best to be careful if you run into Team Plasma again.”

“Are you sure we can’t help anymore Mr. Looker?” Bianca asked.

“You’ve helped plenty, Bianca,” Looker said, walking the four teenagers and disguised Zoroark out of the police station. “I’ll contact you if we need to partner up again!” Looker waved them off, turned around, and walked back into the police station.

Tristan sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. He looked over to his group of friends, and one new acquaintance. He felt a strange absence from them. The three immediately began throwing questions around each other about the past day’s events, as well as the false story he had to tell them.

“What happened to that dragon, I wonder?” Cheren pondered, as he started walking down the street. “Team Plasma was obviously looking for something powerful to use as a weapon. But a dragon?”

“I’ll have to go home and ask my Master about what it could’ve been. He’d know in a second!” Iris said eagerly.

Tristan followed a short ways behind the group, letting them have their conversation without him.

“What’s the matter?” Draya whispered in his ear.

“A part of me feels bad about lying to them about yesterday, but I know I had to,” he said. “They would’ve overreacted about Victini. Wondering where he was now, and well,” Tristan reached up with his right hand and stroked the scaly head of the false Servine on his shoulder. “We don’t want them to know about _you_ yet, right?”

“Definitely not,” she said, rubbing her head against his cheek.

Tristan silently wondered what her real body had done underneath her illusory cloak.

“Cheren, what are you doing? The Pokémon Center is down this road.”

Bianca and Iris were standing at a corner of the sidewalk, Cheren was turned away and intending to walk the opposite way. A surprisingly tense silence filled the late morning air as Cheren held his back to his friends.

“I checked out of the Center before we left, Bianca,” said Cheren, finally turning around. “I’m going to go on my own for a little while.” His voice was calm and plain. At Bianca’s blank stare, he continued, “Look, it’s time we face the facts. I am not strong enough to beat the Shadow Triad. I _need_ to get stronger. I can’t do that if I’m—”

“If you’re what? Being dragged down by me?” Bianca said, walking up to him. “Go on, say it. You think I’m holding you back, right? Is that how you feel about me?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think or feel, you _are_ holding me back. You and Tristan both. I’m always waiting on the two of you to be ready to move when I need you to. I can’t be strong enough to stop Team Plasma if I have to account for the two of you.”

Bianca began to tear up, but shook her head. She shoved Cheren back a few steps, yelling through her tears. “You know what? Just _go_! Go and get stronger! I don’t need you holding my hand!” She ran off down the road toward the Pokémon center.

“Bianca, wait up!” Iris ran after her. “You’re an idiot Cheren!”

Tristan and Cheren stood on the street corner watching the two girls slowly fade from their vision. They looked at each other for a tense moment before anything broke the silence.

“You gigantic ass,” Draya hissed.

“Oh you be quiet,” Cheren spat back. “I don’t need to hear anything you have to say.”

“Well maybe you should start listening!” Tristan said, walking up to his friend, grabbing his shirt in his fists. “What the hell is your problem all of a sudden!? How could you say those things to Bianca?”

“How can you not face the truth about this?” Cheren said, pushing Tristan away from him. “She isn’t a strong battler; she needs extensive training, and a lot of it. I cannot spend the time coddling her, and you shouldn’t either.” He righted his posture and fixed his glasses. “I could wipe the sidewalk with your whole team right now, you know. You need to get stronger too, and you won’t if you don’t stop wasting your time and effort like you have been.”

“When did you get so cruel?” Tristan asked. “How are we supposed beat Plasma if we’re at each other’s throats? We’re supposed to be friends.”

“Is that so? Sorry, I seemed to have missed that part when you sat in that office back there and lied to our faces about what happened to you yesterday,” said Cheren, glaring through his glasses. “Go ahead and deny it, but I can tell. We’ve known each other for years. When you lie to someone you can’t keep eye contact. Like you’re doing right now.”

Tristan fought to keep his gaze on his friend’s, but lost his resolve. He hung his head, staring at the ground between the two of them.

“I don’t know how much of yesterday you’re keeping secret, but right now I don’t care.” Cheren turned around, and started walking up the road away from Tristan. “You should go challenge Burgh at the gym before you leave, but I wouldn’t stay in the city too long.  Plasma _is_ targeting civilians after all. They’re probably looking for us too. Bianca should be fine… if she sticks with Iris.”

Tristan stared down at the sidewalk and listened to his friend’s footsteps grow further away. He clenched his fists, unable to move. It wasn’t until a purple line of sparling light circled him, and Draya’s true form appeared in front of him, that he looked away from his feet.

They didn’t say anything to each other. The look in her eyes showed her concern for him. Tristan wrapped his arms around her back, burrowing his face in the fur on her chest. The two of them held one another in an embrace unseen by the other humans and Pokémon passing by.

After a few minutes passed, Tristan’s mind seemed to switch back to the present. He lifted his head up and looked to Draya, “Wait, who did Cheren say the Gym Leader was?”

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	12. Assist

—————

“I’m not going in there.” Draya stood on the sidewalk outside the Castelia City Gym disguised as a Servine. Her feet were firmly planted in a defiant stance, staring up at her human trainer with her false red eyes. “I’ve tolerated Cole up until now, and I’ve barely even seen the new little guy you picked up in the forest, but I’m not going into a place where its sole purpose is to house and keep bug Pokémon!”

Tristan crossed his arms and silently wondered how much his hidden Zoroark cared about the other humans around her hearing her talk. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little bit? I told you, we’re just here talk.”

“Tell that to the last two Gym Leaders you went to,” she said. “Look, just go and get your badge or whatever you’re here to do. I can stay out here and be fine by myself. I don’t want any part of this.”

“Don’t you enjoy battling?” asked Tristan. “You had a lot of fun in our past matches.”

“Yeah, and those weren’t against exclusively _bug_ opponents.” Draya turned away from him, adjusting her illusion to that of a young adult woman. “You’ll be fine without me for a few hours, right?”

“Can…” Tristan looked around at the people walking past the two of them. “Can anyone else see what happens when you do things like that?”

“They might see something in the corner of their eye,” Draya said, turning around in her human form. She wrapped her arms around Tristan’s neck and whispered into his ear. “But you’re the only one who sees the real me.”

“Alright,” Tristan said. “It’s a big city, so be careful.”

“I always am.” Draya backed away from him, letting her hand linger on Tristan’s face as she waltzed off into the crowd. “I’ll meet you back here in a bit, okay?”

“Fine…” Tristan said. He turned around and finally opened the door to the Castelia Gym. “This might make things easier.”

To his surprise, the inside was very clean and had a modern design aesthetic. The floors, walls, and furniture were a dull white. The flat color and blandness of the lobby was broken up by the few people and Pokémon that were inside. Hanging on the walls were various pieces of art, some abstract and others with definitive subjects. All of them were done by the gym’s Leader himself, Tristan noticed. He could see a large double set of doors that led to the main battle arena across the lobby. Tristan kept his hands in his pockets as he slowly walked up to the receptionist’s desk.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, “but battle registration for the day is between ten and two.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I wasn’t exactly here for a battle. I was wondering if the Leader is in right now,” Tristan smiled. “I was hoping I could speak with him.”

“Well, Leader Burgh usually spends his evenings outside the gym once he’s finished with his battles for the day. Though I suppose if you catch him on his way out—”

“Tristan Blake, is that you?” called Burgh from the other side of the lobby. He cleared the room quickly, taking long strides with his legs, eager to greet Tristan. “Well isn’t this a nice surprise? I take it you figured out my day job?”

“I did,” he said, shaking the leader’s hand. “I was wondering if you had some spare time.”

“My schedule just cleared up, as a matter of fact,” Burgh said. “I was just having a rather lackluster, ‘by-the-books’ battle with a young trainer a moment ago and now and I could use some interesting interactions to clear my palette.”

Tristan glanced behind the excited Gym Leader and saw Cheren walking out of the building. Tristan couldn’t tell if he was ignoring him on purpose or if he just didn’t notice him. He decided it was best they keep some distance between the two of them for now.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking for a battle,” said Tristan.

Burgh gave Tristan a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow. “You came to a Pokémon Gym and sought out the Gym Leader and you don’t want a battle? Why then, would you come to the Gym Leader specifically?”

“I was hoping to talk to a stranger on a bus, actually,” Tristan said.

The Bug type specialist retained his questioning stare for a short moment before catching on. He smiled, “I get it. Come with me, we’ll head up to my office.”

The two bid farewell to the receptionist and walked off toward the main gym arena. Inside was a high-ceiling gymnasium with multiple battlefields for trainers to battle. The walls on either side were lined with spectator seating. Tristan saw a few trainers going over tactics and techniques with their Pokémon, giving him a small urge to do the same soon. The past few days hadn’t lent themselves very well to the life of the average Pokémon trainer. He continued to follow Burgh to a set of stairs that jutted from the wall of the gym and scaled up the side of the wall. The railed stairway led to a small room that overlooked the gym floor. Large windows allowed for the Leader to survey the entire room beneath. Burgh sat down in a chair with his back to the glass and waved for Tristan to do the same.

“This place seems so unlike you,” Tristan said as he sat down. The office was very clean and plain; records and official documents sat in neat piles on the desk, the walls were bare and surprisingly without any of Burgh’s artwork.

“I guess you can see why I like to get out as much as I can.” Burgh waved at the office in front of him. “This life here and out on the battle floor isn’t what I’d like to be doing most of the time. But I am the best at what I do right now, and until someone else can show they can fill my position as Gym Leader of Castelia City better than I can, I’ll be damn sure I do my job. Plus, by making my work life as boring as I can makes my time off seem that much more lively and interesting.”

“How do you find the time to do both?” asked Tristan.

“Why do I get the feeling that question relates to what you wanted to talk to me about?” Burgh rested his elbows on the desk and leaned forward, letting his chin rest in his hands.

“You really must have someone feeding your tips about my life,” Tristan chuckled, defeated. “Yes, it does. I feel like I’m being pulled in a million different directions and I don’t know where to start focusing my attention.”

“Well if you don’t know, then how can I help?” asked Burgh. “Oh, I know; why don’t we just pick up where we left off on the bus? There was mention of a girl, was there not? How did that go, did you two talk?”

Tristan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, I wasn’t very clear about the details last time we talked.”

“You don’t need to worry about me spilling any beans I shouldn’t, you know,” Burgh said. “I’ve had to keep my share of secrets before.”

Taking a deep breath, Tristan began to lay out his increasingly awkward situation he has found himself in to the Gym Leader. He talked about how his surprise Snivy ended up being a disguise worn by a Zorua. He told him that once she had evolved, Draya began to show interest in becoming much more intimate and even pursue a romantic relationship with him.

“And, I feel like it should be an easy thing to accept, you know?” Tristan continued. “But I can’t let myself to just go with it. It’s not the fact that she’s a Zoroark, and not human or whatever. That’s— I don’t mind that. But something has me worried about it all. And it’s not like the situation with my friends is helping either.”

“What do you mean?” asked Burgh.

“Well, Cheren—one of my friends from my hometown, I think you just battled him—has feelings for our friend Bianca. The three of us grew up together in Nuvema Town. The problems with that are; one: Bianca is clueless about how Cheren feels, two: he is too stubborn and afraid to make a move on her, three: I’m pretty sure Bianca has a crush on _me_ , and four: I only see _her_ as a friend!” Tristan leaned back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling. “And now that we’re trying to deal with Team Plasma, we’re being—”

“Whoa there now,” Burgh put his hands up. “You’re doing what with Team Plasma?”

“We—my friends and I, we’ve been going up against them from town to town stopping them from doing terrible things.” Tristan explained how he and Bianca ran into the infamous group at the Dreamyard, how he and Cheren stopped them from stealing Pokémon from children, his failed bust in Nacrene City, and their combined efforts in the city the day before. “We believe the group is up to something terrible.”

Burgh sat in silence for a long time, staring at his hands clasped together on his desk. When he finally broke the silence, he slammed his palms on the desk’s surface. The loud smack startled Tristan.

“You should go on a date!” he exclaimed with a bright smile. “I mean really treat this girl to something nice. I know of a nice little restaurant that’s out of the way that will definitely suit your needs.”

“Wh—What?”

“You are so uncertain about your prospective love life, so I figured what better way to get your feet wet than jumping in the deep end? What do you say, little leaf?”

“But,” Tristan started. “What about my problems with Team Plasma? My friends?”

Burgh stood up from his chair and walked around to Tristan, putting his hands on his shoulders. “My boy, you and your friends have done more in the fight against Team Plasma than those of us that are in-the-know are even aware of. Hell, we don’t even have a whole lot of proof they’re doing anything at all, but you seem to stumble into them at all the right times. You have put forth a great deal of effort for the sake of everyone else, and on behalf of everyone who can’t, let me say ‘thank you’. Thank you for doing what you think is right.”

“You’re welcome? But how is a date supposed to help me?”

“It’ll hopefully solve some, if not all of your problems simultaneously. You can spend some much needed time on your personal life. Everyone needs a life outside of what they do. You say you’re unsure about being in a relationship with your Zoroark, well why not try it? Make the first move—or, whatever the count is—the _next_ move. In any case, you’ve had all this stuff sprung on you and you’re expected to react to it: her real identity, her feelings for you, and that’s all on top of your relationships with your friends. I feel you need to take control of something in your life. You need to really see what this opportunity holds for you.”

“That’s a nice thought, but again, how is this supposed to help with anything other than… well, the obvious?” Tristan asked.

“Well, you and Draya will figure yourselves out in time, and if Bianca pays attention, she’ll see your attentions are elsewhere and stop pursuing you and perhaps notice Cheren.”

“I don’t know how well that’s going to go down after earlier,” Tristan said. Burgh grabbed the young trainer’s shoulders and shook them to get his attention.

“There you go again, worrying about others before yourself! That’s admirable Tristan, but everyone has needs. Go tend to them!” Burgh finally let go of Tristan and rushed to grab a blank piece of paper from inside his desk. He quickly scribbled down an address onto it, folded it up, and handed it to Tristan. “I know the owners of this place. I think they’ll be able to set you up with a nice table if you mention that I sent you their way.”

Tristan took the folded piece of paper from him and immediately noticed something had been placed inside it. He shook the makeshift envelope and the contents into his hand, a small metallic pin in the shape of a green insect’s wing.

“This is your Gym Badge,” Tristan stated. “Are you giving this to me?”

“I sure am,” Burgh said with a smile. “I know what you’re thinking: ‘But we didn’t battle, so why?’ Because I get to decide who is worthy and deserving of my badge. Only trainers who are capable and willing to take on the dangers on the road ahead can have it. Some trainers need to beat me in a Pokémon battle in order to prove it. You didn’t need to.”

Tristan stared at the Insect Badge in his palm for a few moments before Burgh continued.

“Just don’t go spreading the word that I give these out without a fight. That wouldn’t do much for my reputation with the League,” he laughed.

The younger trainer thanked Burgh for his time and his vote of confidence. The two of them walked back to the lobby of Castelia’s gym and said their goodbyes. As he stepped out into the summer air, Tristan pinned his newest badge next to the two others beneath the collar of his jacket. He stared out at the bustling sidewalk in front of him, looking up and down the road. He wondered whether or not to wait here for Draya to return, or to try and find her on his own; he remembered how difficult it was the last time.

His thoughts began it idly wander to what the peculiar young man, whose was simply named “N”, was doing at that moment. He had helped Tristan find Draya after she had ran off in Nacrene City, and Tristan felt he might’ve lost her if not for him. It was a curious thing, Tristan thought; Why would N go out of his way to help him find his Pokémon despite seeming to agree with Team Plasma’s goal of separating humans and Pokémon for good?

Before he could drift any farther into his own mind, Tristan felt a pair of arms slowly wrap around his neck from behind him. A faint purple shimmer surrounded him and immediately the arms felt much more familiar. Thick dark fur and red claws covered up his eyes.

“Guess who?”

Tristan grinned, and grabbed one of Draya’s paws and spun her around in front of him.

“Uh oh,” said Draya. “You’re smiling. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Not a thing,” Tristan pulled her close. “I’m really glad you’re here right now.”

“You are?” she asked, looking up at him. “Must have been some talk you had.”

“Burgh helped me realize I needed to focus on what’s important to me every now and then. Right now, with everything that’s going on, that’s you. Only you.”

Tristan smiled as he left his usually very forward Zoroark speechless.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Draya hugged Tristan’s arm as they began to walk down the street, laying her head on his shoulder. “And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to surprise you.”

—————

The two held casual conversation as they traversed the crowded streets of Castelia City. The sun was just beginning to set, but the tall buildings hid the last rays of daylight, leaving some of the more crowded roads and alleyways in a premature evening gloom. Finding the restaurant that Burgh had recommended was proving to be a difficult task. Tristan was anything but accustomed to the big city and when he finally found the street the address listed, it appeared to be an abandoned and desolate back road. Walking further down the narrow road revealed a staircase and signboard advertising the restaurant.

“‘Café Sonata’, this is the place,” Tristan said with a sigh of relief.

“I was starting to wonder if this place even existed,” teased Draya.

Walking down the steep, but short flight of stairs to the door, Tristan finally caught a glimpse of the interior. While outside had been a bleak and rather messy back alley, inside the basement restaurant itself was actually rather warm and inviting. The stark contrast that the plush red carpeting had to the cold concrete streets was incredibly relaxing and the dim lighting inside was just bright enough so to not strain their eyes. Tristan half wondered how much the dark would even bother Draya if the lights had been shut off entirely.

A lone musician sat on a stool underneath a modest spotlight further in near the bar. He strummed a melody that didn’t demand your entire attention, but left you wanting to get lost in the notes. Couples would pause in their conversations from time to time to watch him as he transitioned into a livelier segment.

An older woman wearing an apron and carrying a tray of drinks noticed them as she passed by the door.

“Give me a moment you two; I’m the only one on the floor right now.” Her tone wasn’t so much annoyed as it was to reassure them that she wasn’t ignoring their needs. As she came back, she pushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.

“So, what brings the both of you here this evening? Is it just the two of you?”

“Yes, it’ll just be us. We were looking for a quiet evening and Burgh, the Gym Leader, pointed us in this direction.” Tristan saw the waitress’s face light up at the mention.

“Oh that boy, always giving us business. You know, this place might not be right on a main road, but we try and maintain it as best we can. Sometimes it’s not enough. One day, Burgh strides in and is taken by the place. Called it ‘A diamond in the rough that is this city’, or some other poetic gibberish. Still, he’s really helped keep us in business.” She picked up a menu from the service station and beckoned for them to follow her.

Draya laid her head on Tristan’s shoulder and hugged his arm tightly as they walked through the restaurant.

“I take it you and your Serperior would prefer a booth?” she asked. “You two are dining ‘together’, right?”

“My Serperior?” Tristan asked, caught off guard. He glanced over to his shoulder at Draya who only gave him a wide grin. “Oh, that’s right. She’s just evolved, so I’m still not quite used to thinking of her like this. She’s been a handful; even more so now. A booth would be fine, thanks.”

They continued until they reached the back corner of the seating area where a large circular table sat a bit further away from the rest of the booths. The cushioned bench that surrounded the table looked like it was meant to seat a party of at least eight people, Tristan guessed.

“You two just relax and look over the menu,” said the waitress, letting them take their seats. “Take your time. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you.”

Once they were both alone, the two patrons relaxed into the cushioned seating and took in the restaurant’s decor. The heavy table in front of them was made of a dark brown wood, worn smooth over years of use.

Draya leaned on Tristan’s shoulder, grabbing his attention away from a painting he suspected Burgh had painted. Looking at her in the low light, he thought he could see her cyan eyes glowing softly.

“Okay, I’m intrigued now. This is the surprise you had for me?” Draya asked. She curiously looked around their booth and struggled to find anything too interesting. “I know some things about how humans live their lives, but does this mean what I think it does?”

“We’re on what’s called a ‘date’,” said Tristan. Draya nodded, at least recognizing the term. “It’s a tradition that humans have with how we, well, look for our partners. But I bet this is lame, isn’t it?”

“It’s not really something I’m used to. My parents told me to choose a mate who could fool me without an ounce of suspicion, and who is worthy enough to see through my own lies. An impressive illusion weaver,” Draya patted him on his chest and flashed her teeth at him. “You’ll do though.”

“I said I would try and return your feelings, and I am sticking by that,” he said. Listening to Draya talk so casually about someone else she could be involved with made him feel secondary and unwanted. “Look, if I’m not good enough—”

“Hey, I never said you needed to be a Zoroark. I’m more than willing to try my luck with a human mate,” Draya leaned in closer to him, letting one of her clawed paws rest on his thigh. “I like you as you are, but if you’re so desperate to know how well you do tonight, maybe I can give you a thorough review later tonight.”

The vivid thoughts that ran through Tristan’s mind took him out of the moment and into a fit of flustered stumbling to find his words. In the painful silence that followed, his mind raced to find exactly what he wanted to say. The things that Draya was saying to him and the meaning behind what she was suggesting felt monumental and crushing. At Draya’s quiet laughter he realized she was merely teasing him, which only bolstered the feeling of being pushed around and gathered himself.

Tristan wasn’t sure on many things in his life at the moment; the work to stop Team Plasma, his friends, and his trainer career, they all had a feeling of mystery and uncertainty to them. But in his head, he imagined declining Draya’s offer of any sort of romantic involvement, and he immediately didn’t want that. In fact, being honest with himself, Tristan felt an attraction to Draya the moment he saw her evolved form. The thoughts had just stayed in the back of his mind until now, due to dealing with everything that had occurred over the past few days. But here, it was just the two of them, and he knew what he wanted now.

Tristan decided to meet her head on.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

Her reaction was a mix of shock and anticipation. It stopped her laughter dead in her throat, her eyes widened.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I think I might end up liking dates.”

Draya snuggled close to her human companion again. They sat quietly finally looked over the menu while they waited for their waitress to return and take their meal orders. Once their food had finally arrived, they sat further away from each other to fully enjoy their meals. Time ticked away as they enjoyed each other’s company in their secluded little corner. The outside world seemed to fall into nothing as they ate their dinner in almost uninterrupted peace.

“Hey, can I say something?”

Draya broke the silence of the moment and crossed her hands underneath her chin, resting her head on them. She looked Tristan in the eye, taking a deep breath. “I know that I’ve been a little pushy. But, it’s for a good reason.”

“I never thought it wasn’t,” Tristan started, but Draya cut him off.

“Please, let me finish,” she said. “I never once felt bad for how I lived my life. I lied, I cheated, I stole, and disguised myself. I did anything and everything that I could think of to survive. I looked down on humans and hated them without giving them a chance. I blamed them for what happened to me, even though it was my fault. It never crossed my mind that I might hurt someone because of how I lived my life.” She looked down at her paws, admiring the shine of her red claws in the low light.

“And then I met you,” Draya said, looking back at him. “For the first time in a really long time, someone cared about me. I met you with the same goals in mind that I always had, just to steal whatever I needed from you and leave before I was found out.” She shook her head. “But I stayed with you just because you _asked_ me to! You were instantly welcoming and open to me. That really meant something to me. It still does.”

“Why did you hide who, or what, you were for so long?” asked Tristan.

“Because I was… too stubborn. My world was changing every day. First I was some human’s Pokémon, then you found out I could speak your language, then I met your friends and even began to like them…” she closed her eyes and smiled. “And I had so much fun. I had fun being ‘Draya the Snivy’. I wasn’t willing to give up that little role.” Draya reached across the table they shared and placed her paw on Tristan’s hand. “But as time went on, I began to feel guilty for not telling you the truth about what I was. It wasn’t fair for you to put forth the effort you did toward some Pokémon that didn’t even exist. Not in my mind.”

“If you could have chosen,” Tristan asked, grabbing her hand, “when would you have shown yourself to me?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she said. “Ever since I almost evolved in those caves and my illusion almost broke against my will, the thought was on my mind. Since then, we were pretty much non-stop with anti-Team Plasma activities, or Gym battles… I think then,” Draya decided. “After we won in Nacrene, I would have.”

“But you didn’t, and you got exposed,” said Tristan. “I have to say, if I looked back at all my time with you before then, it was pretty obvious you weren’t a Snivy. You never used a single Grass type attack. I wouldn’t change a thing about our time together though. You’ve turned out to be one hell of battler.”

“That’s sweet,” Draya said, flashing a smile. “But I got off track. What I wanted to say is: I love who you are and what you mean to me. I know that for you, I must be going a mile a minute with ‘us’, but I won’t hide who I am from you anymore. You’re kind, accommodating, adaptable, trusting, ever forgiving, and you’re everything that I’m not. I love you, Tristan, and the fact that you’re unsure about us right now doesn’t scare me. Because you’re willing to try and taking me out on this date proves that to me. It’s things like that that make me love you even more.”

Tristan sat in awe of Draya’s heartfelt speech, unable to find any real words of his own.

“It’s okay,” she said, looking away shyly. “You don’t have to say it back right away.”

“I…” Tristan started, but held back. “You really know how to put a guy on the spot. Are you just saying what I want to hear so that you get what you want?”

“I don’t know, it’s in my nature to manipulate and twist isn’t it? Would you hate me if I was?”

“What if I want to find out on my own?” Tristan caught on to Draya’s teasing.

“Are you saying you’re going to make me honest?” said Draya. “You have your work cut out for you.”

Draya leaned toward Tristan slowly, bringing one of her hands up to caress his face.

“I have to say; one thing I’m glad you humans came up with is kissing. Really helps set the mood.”

Before she could reach him she paused, looking over to her right. Someone had come over to their table.

“Hey buddy, a little privacy?” Tristan said, without looking directly at their guest.

“For what?” they asked. “I was hoping to join you for a moment.”

“We’re in the middle of—” Tristan looked up at their rude arrival and fell over his words.

The strange young man named N stood by their table with an expectant look on his face.

“What are you in the middle of? Seems like a pleasant night out, to be sure,” said N. He brought a hand to his chin, looking confused. “This place seems a little too intimate for a simple meal with your Pokémon, however.”

Draya huffed, sliding back to her original seat and waved her hand toward N. A purple shimmer of light danced across his gray eyes.

“Oh!”

Tristan assumed Draya just allowed N to see through her illusion.

“I had my suspicions you were there, my friend!” N saw no boundaries and took a seat next to Draya and grinned. “You’ve evolved spectacularly. Such nice fur!”

“N!” Tristan said in a hushed but harsh tone. “We’re kind of on a date right now, okay?”

“Aren’t we all? Every day is a date.” There was no sense of humor in his voice. N seemed absolutely clueless.

Now it was Tristan’s turn to sigh in annoyance. Draya looked at him in desperation. The both of them wanted the eccentric man gone as soon as possible.

“What is it?” Tristan asked. “What do you need? How did you even find us?”

“I have many more eyes and ears than you do it seems,” N said coyly. “So, do you have it? Am I correct?”

“What are you talking about?” asked Tristan.

“Surely you know; the dragon! Zekrom! You are its master, yes? Just as I had calculated.” N pointed a finger up. “I have seen footage of just yesterday afternoon, Zekrom flying in this city. And here you are, in the same place, and I heard that you had also arrived yesterday. This is not coincidence!”

“Well, it kind of is,” Draya butted in.

N turned his head in confusion.

“We were the cause of Zekrom showing up, but it wasn’t real. It was an illusion that I made.” Draya gave a sheepish smile and backed away from the now devastated looking N.

“It… It was you? How? Why would you have made that? For what purpose did you conjure Zekrom yesterday?”

As N’s voice rose, Tristan hoped Draya’s illusion was drowning it out for the sake of the other patrons in the restaurant.

“I told her to do it,” Tristan finally said.

He began to tell N the tale of Team Plasma’s assault on Liberty Garden island, their target, and how they fooled them with a fake Legendary Pokémon.

“I… I appear to have been… mistaken,” N said.

“Why did you think I had Zekrom?” Tristan could not figure out the connection.

“I have been on a quest, of sorts. To seek out the Truth in this world and the living embodiment of that Truth. Legend tells of an incredible beast of fire: Reshiram. It is my destiny to find it and save this world from itself. I know that Reshiram is waiting for me to awaken it from its slumber. And together we shall make my dream come true.”

“And what does that have to with me?”

“I feel a deep connection to you, my friend.” N’s face looked somber. “I cannot describe it, but you and I feel fated to clash for the sake of everything. You are my opposite. So I feel that Zekrom is tied to your destiny as Reshiram is tied to mine.”

“How can you believe that?” asked Tristan. “I’m nothing special.”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth,” N said with a smile. “You strive for what you believe in. You believe in the good of people for the sake of Pokémon. You bring others up around you. But I already know what this world is like, and I do not believe it can change. I can only bring others down.”

Draya looked between the two of them in worry.

“I don’t understand.” Tristan shook his head. “What is the point in you telling me all this? That we’re going to fight and we have these Legendary Pokémon tied to us?”

“I must confess that when I learned of Zekrom’s appearance, I was disheartened. If the Hero of Ideals had surfaced, then surely the Hero of Truth would be close behind them. In my mind, I held two theories: First, that I was not the one destined to join Reshiram and I would have to watch from the sidelines as the fate of the world played out before me. The second, which I acted on today, was that it was you! I felt that if my rival was one such as you, perhaps we could come to an agreement on what this world should be.”

Tristan slumped down in his seat and groaned.

“This isn’t how I pictured this date going. Sorry…” he offered his apology toward Draya.

“I do not understand why today is so special,” N said with a shrug. “In any case, it appears my worries have been for nothing. But that doesn’t mean my plans must go to waste.”

N stood and extended a hand over the table to Tristan.

“Will you assist me in my search for Reshiram?”

Silence filled their little booth in the back of the restaurant. What N was suggesting felt immense and out of his depth. Tristan knew the stories of the two Heroes of Unova, and their troubled pasts. They always ended in conflict and conflict always resulted in a winner and a loser. The weight of N’s words weighed heavily on his mind, bringing back everything Tristan had hoped to forget by going on the date Burgh had suggested. Team Plasma, the conflict with his friends, and now these dragons. Tristan’s life felt more and more out of his control.

He felt his Zoroark’s claws touch his hand under the table to snap him out of his trance. They shared a look with each other.

“I don’t know what to say,” Tristan said after a quiet moment. “This is all—”

Draya leaned in closer to him and whispered into his ear.

“If it gets him to leave sooner, just say ‘yes’.” She leaned back and flashed purple energy across her eyes. “I could make him think whatever we want him to.”

“No, don’t”, said Tristan. He looked up at N and stood to meet him. He took his hand, “I will, N. I will help you find whatever it is you’re searching for.”

“I’m searching for a large white dragon who breathes fire,” N said in a matter of fact tone.

“Right…” Tristan said. “Say, how about _tomorrow_ , you and I get started on the search? Let us have the rest of the night to rest and prepare, and you can gather some solid leads?”

“Oh I have a very good idea where Reshiram sleeps at this very moment, but I do agree. Tomorrow, we shall set out on our adventure.” N left the booth and let Tristan take his seat again.

“I leave you two to the rest of this date,” he said. “Perhaps later you can explain what made today so special when we meet again?”

N turned and walked off towards the exit. It wasn’t until they heard the door’s bell chime and shut did Tristan and Draya sigh in relief. They were alone again.

“I am _not_ explaining tonight to him. He’s _your_ friend,” said Draya, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Tristan said, “this might seem out of nowhere, but why did you change your disguise to be a Serperior?”

“Two reasons,” Draya sat up and shimmered, showing off her disguise for Tristan to see. Her body, taking the form of a large green snake, was laid out on most of the remaining space in the booth, as well as coiling her long, slender length around him. Tristan felt it, the heavy weight and texture of the scales of the Serperior everyone else must see. The illusion faded, returning the black and red furred fox grinning in her seat.

“First, we get all this space to ourselves if people think I’m as large as that. How could I not?”

“I don’t like exploiting others just for comfort, you know,” Tristan scolded her.

“Too bad,” Draya stuck her tongue out at him. “And the other reason, I guess… I wanted to put Cheren in his place. Where does he get off calling you weak? You’re the strongest human I’ve ever met, and easily the most admirable male I’ve had my sights set on. So I thought that if my fake-self was fully evolved, he’d think again.”

“You don’t have to do that,” said Tristan. “Cheren will come to his senses eventually. We don’t need to prove ourselves to him.”

“But I want to.”

“I’m not angry at him, Draya. I understand where he’s coming from, at least from the ‘telling the truth’ aspect. We all decided to go after Team Plasma together and I’m not exactly cooperating with everyone.”

“Then it’s that little imp Victini’s fault for wanting to cover his tracks so badly,” Draya said bitterly.

“I lied for your sake too, you know,” Tristan said. “How else was I going to explain what you did down in that cellar? I had to lie and make that Zekrom real to keep them from suspecting what you really are.”

“Are you… blaming me?” Draya sunk down in her seat and her eyes widened. “Is keeping my secret too much of a hassle for you now?”

“No, not at all!” Tristan caught himself too late, not wanting his voice to raise that much.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” Tristan reached out and offered his hand to his Zoroark date. She let the moment draw out, obviously trying to milk his guilt a little before she laid a paw in his hand. He squeezed it gently.

“I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep your identity a secret as long as you want it to be. Iris and Bianca believed my story easily, but Cheren’s too clever for that. He’s could tell Looker already knew what really went on, somehow, and that I was covering for something. I’m sure he probably doesn’t really care about what I lied about, but he cares about _why_ I lied. And part of it was about protecting you.” Tristan began to stroke the fur on her hand, appreciating how soft it was.

“If he wants to get bent out of shape about it,” he continued, “I say we let him. If— No, when push comes to shove, he’ll still help us against Plasma.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t want you alienating your friends because you’re jumping through all these hoops for me. Believe me; it’s sweet and I love it, but they were in your life first.” Draya looked away, staring down at the table.

Tristan moved closer, putting an arm around her waist, and lifted her head up to look her in the eyes.

“Come here,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. He held it for a short moment, feeling her relax and lean into him. When she broke the contact between them, she looked much more at ease.

“You are important to me, in a way I can’t say I’ve ever experienced before. I’m willing to take steps to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Plus, I’ve been friends with Cheren long enough to know that when he gets angry and pushy like he did, he just cares about you a lot. They might be my past, but you could be my future.”

It was Draya’s turn to be at a loss for words.

“Okay, do whatever you need to do to get us out of this place and back to our room,” Draya said. “It’s time I showed you want a Zoroark can do for her mate.”

—————

After a hastily paid bill and an even faster jaunt back to their hotel room above the Pokémon Center, Tristan and Draya found themselves locked in a heavy exchange of deep kisses and roaming hands as they rode the elevator up to their floor.

Tristan pulled away after particularly long and heated make-out session as the sliding doors opened with a ding.

“O-Okay, what was that?” he asked, short of breath.

“You like it? I can fool _all_ the senses.”

“You tasted like chocolate.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” said Draya.

The two chased each other down the hallway to their room. When Tristan’s shaky and eager hands finally opened the door, he and Draya saw the worst thing the two could think of waiting for them on their bed.

Sitting cross-legged and upright watching their television was N, his hat off and lying in front of him.

“Welcome back, you two! Did you know that the news is on at all hours of the day? Or should I say ‘date’?”

“How did you— Why are you _here_ N?” Tristan asked, aghast. Draya bit into his shoulder and sobbed.

“I do not have lodging in this city and thought it expedient, since we were to venture out together tomorrow, to simply share yours.”

“But the door was locked,” Draya whined. “And we— I wanted—” she hid behind Tristan, covering herself behind her mane.

“N, please go away.”

“I can sleep on the floor, it is no trouble.”

“That’s not the point!”

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	13. Cocoon of Glass

—————

Central Unova—a peninsula created by twin parallel rivers that spilled out into the ocean to the south—is home to two of the region’s largest cities. Along the water to the south, Castelia City stands as a sprawling cityscape of skyscrapers and ports. Business and residential buildings dominate the southern city, its streets and roads nearly filled to capacity at all hours of the day with people living their lives a mile a minute.

Closer to the center of the region, Nimbasa City shines brightly as the region’s premier entertainment hub. From musicals, to sporting events and even an amusement park, people from all over the region travel to there to enjoy themselves—a task made easy by the central subway station also located in Nimbasa.

Perhaps it was because of all the attention that these two cities received over the many years that caused the area between the two metropolises to fall into such a debilitated condition.

Unova’s Route 4 finds itself in vast contrast to the rest of the region. Neglect, overuse and draining of the natural resources for the surrounding cities has left the area in a barren, arid state. Winds from the sea cause near constant sandstorms, sending grit and dirt into the air and obscuring the two cities from each other.

Direct travel between the two cities along this desert route was taxing, uncomfortable, and potentially dangerous for those walking on foot. Ground and Fire type Pokémon now lived in the sands along the slowly developing road linking Castelia and Nimbasa. It was no surprise that with these challenging conditions that the area has seen little construction over the years. However, Pokémon Trainers saw the harsh environment as a golden opportunity to hone their skills and toughen themselves and their Pokémon.

While the development in this desolate place wasn’t impossible, it became clear that progress would be agonizingly slow.

A sentiment that was shared by Tristan Blake, a Pokémon Trainer sitting in the gatehouse that connected Castelia City to Route 4. He leaned back in a chair at a table, carefully balancing it on two legs, and stared up at the ceiling. The air-conditioned building felt unquestionably amazing to him; the heat outside was beginning to become maddening. Sweat dripped down his face the back of his neck, matting his hair. Any movement he made sent sand spilling down onto the floor from where it clung to him. He never could shake himself completely clean after a trip out into that hot, gritty wilderness.

In the two weeks since Tristan had hastily agreed to help the strange young man named “N” find the supposed whereabouts of the legendary Dragon of Truth, they had accomplished little else than collect sand in their shoes. During his outings, Tristan would take the opportunity to train his Pokémon, something he felt that he had done less than enough since becoming a trainer in the first place. Thanks to the many repeated battles in the sandstorms, his three Pokémon were now much more powerful. Jeremiah—the name Tristan gave to the Sewaddle that N had entrusted him with—was now a Swadloon. Tristan idly wondered if the evolution to the shrouded bug was influenced not by battle experience, but necessity to take cover in the sandy terrain. His Whirlipede, Cole Train, seemed well on his way to evolving to his final stage.

“Still?” came a groan next to him.

Tristan lazily looked to his left, a weak smile slowly spread across his face at the sight he knew only he could see.

Draya the Zoroark sat and grumbled as she cleaned herself with a brush that Tristan had bought for her after their first trip into the desert. Stroke after stroke sent tufts of fur and sand falling down to the floor. She cared for her large mane of red fur more carefully, also combing it with her shiny claws.

“I’m never going to be clean again…” Draya sobbed. She slumped over the table stared at her human companion, begging for sympathy with her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan offered his hand out toward her, which she gripped weakly. “I had no idea this is what he had in mind.”

“Please…” she whined. “Please let today be the last day! Let us be done!” She pleaded to no one in particular.

Tristan couldn’t give her much of an answer, but he was starting to share her impatience.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Draya perked up in her seat. “Let’s just leave! We can run back to our room, grab our stuff, and never step foot in sand again! We can take that underground train you talked about!”

“Draya…” Tristan scolded. “As much as I hate it, I did promise N that I’d help him. If you don’t want to keep going out there, you can stay behind. I really won’t mind.”

“Are you kidding?” Draya asked, putting a clawed hand on Tristan’s chest. “Our afternoons out there have been some of the only times we’ve actually been alone together. Even if it’s gross and uncomfortable.”

In addition to their quest, Tristan and Draya did their best to keep their newfound romance alive. Wanting to keep N in a cheerful and productive mood, they decided it best to keep it secret from him for the time being. It wasn’t in their plans to continue sharing their hotel room with the seemingly sheltered young man, but they took any opportunity they could to enjoy themselves.

“Those are nice,” agreed Tristan. “But I keep telling you we should spend more time searching and less fooling around so N can be on his way. I would like to actually spend time together without worrying about being caught.”

“And _I_ keep telling _you_ that I can make that happen.” Draya waved a hand and sent a glittering wave of purple energy cascading throughout the seating area of the gatehouse. “No one can ever interrupt us in here.”

“N already knows what you really are,” Tristan said. “He’ll know something’s up if we’re not where we’re supposed to meet up. Plus I don’t want him asking any awkward questions.”

“Fine…” Draya relented, reigning in her illusory field to affect just their table in the corner of the building. “He’ll know where we are.”

“Yeah, he always seems to, doesn’t he?” Tristan drifted off in thought. “Says he has eyes everywhere…”

“Hey,” Draya stood and sat on human’s lap, straddling him. She held his face between her paws, “Don’t spend our alone time thinking about N. I,” she kissed him, letting it linger for just a second before pulling away, “am right,” she kissed him again, “here.”

“I can see that,” Tristan smiled, letting his hands fall to her waist. “Believe me, I’d rather focus all my attention towards you.”

“Then why don’t you? Why are you so insistent on helping him?”

“Because I’m curious about him and this legend he is so convinced that I’m a part of. N showed up in my life right after we left Nuvema Town and he keeps meeting us wherever we go. Maybe he and I are fated to fight one day, but before that happens I want to learn more about these dragons, and why N is so obsessed with them because I might need to know about them sometime.”

“No, don’t start making sense, it makes it harder to argue against you,” Draya teased. She closed her eyes and began to close the distance between them slowly until they were suddenly joined at their table.

A tall man wrapped in thick cloth and a hood sat in a seat across from the one Tristan and Draya were sharing. At their sudden arrival, Draya rushed back to her own chair and let Tristan make himself look presentable. A small nod from him, and the Zoroark let the cloaked man into her illusion field.

“So, no luck?” asked Tristan.

The other man pulled back the hood he wore and shook his long green hair free from the restrictive clothing. N sat and stared at the empty table for a few moments before responding. His eyes were heavy and lacking any of the enthusiasm he had shown for the past few weeks.

“No,” he simply said. N slowly pulled off the extra layers he wore to protect him from the fierce sandstorms that whipped through the desert.

“Well, we’ll just try again tomorrow, right?” offered Tristan.

“I fear there might not be a point anymore,” N said with a somber voice. “I’ve spoken to so many Pokémon in this area and none of them could tell me where the castle is.”

N had revealed to Tristan that he had discovered information that said the previous Hero of Truth had lived, and eventually died, in a castle that was supposedly somewhere in the vast desert of Route 4. Convinced this was enough information, N and Tristan spent days splitting up and exploring the wilderness separating Castelia and Nimbasa.

Unfortunately the remains of an extravagant castle buried under the sand proved themselves to be much harder to find.

“I wished to accomplish my quest on my own,” N started. “But I was unable to do many things along my way. So I’ve asked for help from many Pokémon and they’ve guided me this far. Now I’ve asked you to help me as well, but I seem to be coming up with nothing to show for it. I have nowhere else to go.”

“Right now, maybe,” Tristan said, “but there could be another place the Hero lived that you don’t know about yet, right?”

“No, you don’t understand. There are no more trails to follow, no more leads. I’ve done my research, tracing back the history of the two heroes and their battles, and this is the end of the road. The last recorded battle ended here, at the heart of the kingdom at the time. I’m sure of it.”

Tristan considered the situation for a moment. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You’ve gone and done a lot of work to find what you’re looking for. If you’re that sure of what you’ve learned, then maybe it’s time to pick someone else’s brain.” He nodded over to the group of construction workers who had taken seats on the opposite side of the rest area.

“That construction company has been trying to do work in this area for a long time, but the area isn’t the best for human development.”

“I’m aware,” N said, a hint of distaste in his voice. “On my trips into the desert I’ve steered clear of their sites; they’ve displaced many Pokémon from their homes. They’re—”

“You’re right,” Tristan stopped N before he could continue, “but what I was getting at is that before anyone starts a big development project, they inspect the land and see if it’s suitable for their needs, and if they’ll be disturbing any sort of burial sites or _ancient ruins_.”

Tristan watched N’s face light up at his words. The excited young man stood and went over to where Tristan was sitting, gripping his shoulders. “Please! You must ask them if they know anything!”

“Whoa, okay then! Calm down!” Tristan pushed N off of him. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just…” N looked around the lobby. “This task has to be done by you. Until now, I’ve been doing this _for_ Pokémon and seeking help _from_ Pokémon. I cannot let humans be who guide me to Reshiram. It conflicts with my entire quest to find and revive them!”

“Well, what about me? You asked _me_ for help. I’m human, you know,” Tristan had trouble understanding the things N even on the best of days, he wondered if the desert heat was beginning to get to him.

“You are my equal and opposite,” N said, as if it were an obvious statement. “The Heroes of Truth and Ideals are never enemies outright, they often rule in harmony for years. I don’t have any reservations if you and your ideas help me along.”

“You keep saying that I’m linked to this legend, but I’m still not convinced,” said Tristan. “Well, if you’re sure that you’re not violating your own ‘code’ or whatever.”

“I encourage it, truly. Plus, I will be happy to return the favor someday. In fact,” N held his chin as he thought, “if I’m not mistaken, tales and records say the final battle ravaged the castle, but they weren’t clear on who had emerged victorious. It was your idea to ask Draya to create the illusion of Zekrom to escape from the terrible events on Liberty Garden Island, and now your intuition leads us elsewhere. Perhaps my leads have been pointing us toward _your_ fated meeting with Zekrom?”

“I’d honestly feel bad,” Tristan laughed sympathetically at the thought. “You’ve really worked hard to find this dragon of yours.”

“ _We_ have,” N insisted. “Even if we haven’t found anything yet, you and your Pokémon have given your time to better _my_ cause. I will not forget that. Now, if you please?”

“Right, right, I’ll go ask them.”

N sat back down at the table and watched Tristan ask the construction workers his questions. He shook his head violently, sending sand flying around their corner of the room.

“Hey!” Draya complained. “Watch it! I’ve been trying to clean myself for ages…”

“Apologies,” said N. He began to shake his clothes of sand in a more discrete manner. “I must say, despite myself, you’ve picked a very… respectable human to ally yourself with,” N said to Draya. “You seem happy.”

“Thank you,” Draya grinned. “I am. We’re working out quite nicely.”

“I feel I must ask; should the balance of power in this world shift against him,” N said with a stern voice, “what will you do? Will you stand by him?”

Draya crossed her arms and looked away, annoyed. “What kind of question is that?”

“An honest one, but I believe I already know the answer.”

—————

Just as Tristan had suspected, and just as N’s research had pointed to, there were in fact old, buried ruins in the desert. The construction company had extensively surveyed the land between Castelia and Nimbasa City to see how much development could be made in the area. In a large canyon to the northwest of Route 4, dubbed the Desert Resort by travelers, remains of human civilization had been found toward the cliff that overlooked Unova’s western bay.

To both of their surprise, the ruins were located much farther than either N or Tristan had been in their recent excursions, so the two decided to rest and gather supplies for the remainder of the day.

After hearing Tristan’s good news, N was adamant that they start their long journey first thing the following morning. He said he had something in mind to make the trip easier on the group, but didn’t go into details at the time.

On the morning in question, Tristan woke up in his hotel room and found that N had already left. A hastily written note was left lying on the floor where N had slept while he shared the room with them, but Tristan could hardly make out any of the words.

“[Go…] or [Gone to find… help… friend]?” Tristan attempted to read the note out loud, hoping it would somehow become clearer in his mind.

He dropped the paper when a pair of fur-covered arms crossed his chest and pulled him backwards back onto the bed. Tristan turned himself over in Draya’s loose grip, his face almost covered entirely by the thick black fur on her chest.

“I didn’t say we were done in bed yet,” Draya scolded playfully. “When are we going to get to ‘the main event’? You don’t want to bore me, do you?”

“Well not _now_ ,” Tristan regretfully said, “and I hope you understand that I’m not meaning to be boring, or slow. Things just keep popping up, and—”

“Don’t be dumb,” Draya pushed his face deeper into her fluffy chest. “I’m just teasing. I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.”

For lengthy and extensive traveling through the desert, Tristan and N had sought out appropriate clothing; cloaks made of a light, but durable fabric with a hood to keep the sun from beating down on their heads for the long walk ahead of them. The cloth draped over Tristan’s normal outfit and his backpack full of supplies with ease and didn’t impede his movement. Before leaving the hotel, he double and triple checked his supply of water, hoping he wouldn’t need any more than he already had. He had no real idea how long it would take for them to walk to these ruins, or how long they would have to search them for the famed Dragon of Truth.

“I’m not walking out there with you two,” Draya said defiantly.

“Are you going to stay here then? Should I keep the room for another night or two?” asked Tristan.

“No, I’ll go with you, but I’ll go in my Poké Ball.”

“Really?” Tristan was surprised, knowing how much Draya preferred to stay outside with him. “You didn’t even want to do that when I went to talk to Burgh.”

“This is going to be a lot longer than an afternoon chat,” Draya said. “I want to be with you in case anything happens out there, but I’m absolutely _done_ with cleaning sand out of my fur.”

Tristan smiled, stroking her red mane from her forehead and behind her right ear. She grabbed his hand with a paw and squeezed it, pulling him closer to her.

“Don’t go getting all frisky with me now if you’re not going to follow through,” Draya warned playfully.

“Alright,” Tristan said. “Want to walk with me until we get to Route 4, or do you want to be in your ball until we find what we’re looking for?”

Draya decided to stay with Tristan until they met up with N. The two of them left the hotel room and headed out onto the already busy streets of Castelia City. The early morning air was cool as it blew from the sea behind them, a feeling they both agreed they would miss as the day went on. As they walked, they kept up mild, innocent conversation with each other.

“Are you still a Serperior to everyone else?” asked Tristan.

“Yeah,” said Draya. “Why?”

“Just making sure. I need to remind myself that you’re not a Zoroark to other people,” Tristan said. “I don’t want to spoil your secret by accident, you know?”

“You’re so sweet when you care,” Draya hugged his arm, nuzzling his face as they walked. “I’m glad I picked you.”

When the two finally reached the gatehouse that separated Castelia City and the wilderness beyond, they still hadn’t come across N. When they stepped out underneath the covered doorway of the gatehouse and looked out into Route 4, they found their answer as to why.

N was standing in the sand a few feet away from the partially constructed road. He was wearing the desert clothing he and Tristan had bought the previous day. Noticing that they had arrived, N walked over to Tristan and Draya. Behind him floated a strange looking Pokémon; what looked like an orb that had sprouted thin wings, forked arms, and three eyes bobbed up and down in the air as it followed N. The sound of wind chimes seemed to ring out from the creature as it flew.

“Good morning you two,” N said. “I trust you read my note?”

“Kinda,” Tristan said with a shrug. “I couldn’t really read your handwriting.”

“Really? I tried very hard to keep it neat… In any case,” N smiled as he introduced the Pokémon behind him, “Sigilyph has agreed to accompany us on our journey through the desert, and it has a very helpful ability!” N stepped back out from the canopy of the gatehouse’s exit, guiding the strange flying Pokémon to follow him.

N’s clothing didn’t ripple or wave in the wind, nor did it look as if he was being hit by the sand that it blew his way.

“Isn’t it remarkable?” N called over the wind. “It doesn’t help with the heat much, but the sandstorms are no longer a variable in this equation!”

“Ooh, nice!” Draya said. “Now I can come with you guys.”

“I’m afraid not,” N cautioned. “My friend here is a Psychic Pokémon, and can’t shield us if you are around.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You’re a Dark type Pokémon, Draya,” Tristan explained. “You’re just going to mess with whatever it does to block the sandstorm.”

“Oh yeah?” Draya asked. “I’ll show it what’s what. Watch.”

Draya defiantly stepped out into the sandstorm and approached the Avianoid Pokémon. As she got close, it clanged its strange feathers together as a warning. When Draya didn’t relent, the Sigilyph flapped its wings at the ground in front of the advancing Zoroark, sending an Air Cutter attack into the ground. The blast of sand covered Draya from head to toe, stopping her in her tracks.

“I… did warn you,” N offered as Draya violently shook herself of as much sand as she could.

“Fine…” the Zoroark grumbled. She stomped back toward Tristan, reached her hand into her trainer’s cloak, and recalled herself into her empty Poké Ball.

To Tristan’s surprise, most of the sand that had covered her did not follow her into her capture sphere. He chuckled to himself, “She’s gonna be pissed when I tell her she could’ve done that to get clean all this time.”

Tristan threw up his hood to shield himself from the already hot sun and walked out to meet N and the Sigilyph. As he stepped into the wide field of Psychic energy that repelled the sandstorm, it looked to Tristan as if someone had placed a glass bubble around them. The outside world warped slightly as he peered around in the sphere.

“Come, Tristan,” N said. “We should get moving.”

“You got it.”

Following a map they had drawn up the previous day, N and Tristan began their journey toward the Desert Resort, and hopefully, the ruins that might lie there.

—————

The sun had risen high into the sky, now shining brightly at its uppermost point. Noontime in a desert cranked the heat up to excruciating levels. As the two humans traveled in this unforgiving canyon, their footsteps would sink deeply into the sand without warning or reason. They helped each other back up onto stable ground when the other would get stuck, delaying their travel and expending precious energy.

Sweat dripped down Tristan’s face—among other places, he could feel—and he longed for a cool gust of wind to cool him down.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, N’s Sigilyph seemingly picked up on the desire with its telepathic ability, and sent a gentle breeze through the protective bubble for the two humans. N and Tristan took the opportunity and allowed a moment to rest and drink some much needed water.

Through a stroke of luck, or perhaps just a result of his persistence, N had finally come across a wild Pokémon that knew where the ruins that they were searching for were located. A Sandile that had popped up out of the ground inside of their bubble—which had instantly ruptured and sent a blast of hot wind and sand blowing at the two travelers—apparently knew the ruins very well and agreed to show them the way.

N reluctantly pulled out a Poké Ball and recalled the Sigilyph, vowing to release it once their time in the desert was done, and let the Sandile guide them toward their goal.

Thankfully for the two humans, they happened to not be very far away from the entrance to the ruins, which made itself known by a few broken, stone columns that jutted upward from the sand dunes. A stairway made of stone led down underground and into darkness. N and Tristan stood at the entrance for a moment to take in the moment.

“Reshiram…” N muttered before stepping down into the ancient passageway.

Once inside, Tristan pulled back his hood and surveyed the low ceiling entryway. Stone pathways quickly gave way to more sand, which he was uncertain whether it had blown in from the outside or had been in the ruins to begin with. He noticed that N was examining some equipment that had been left in various places in the chamber. It appeared to belong to an archaeological survey group. Small digging tools, cameras, and even a basic lighting system had been affixed to the walls and ceilings.

“What is all of this?” N asked. “These don’t belong here.”

“Looks like people are starting to explore these ruins,” Tristan explained. “If it’s halting construction, they’re probably going to want to know how big this place is.”

“Then people have already gone through here?” N seemed worried.

“Well, look,” Tristan pointed down one of the passageways that continued on from their location, “the lights don’t go very far, and there isn’t anyone around. They might’ve just started excavating, and we got here between their expeditions.”

N contemplated his words, “You are correct. If nothing else,” he paused to listen to the silent ruins. “We are the only ones here. Since the lights only go so far, then I should—”

“I can take care of that, actually,” Tristan offered. He grabbed a Poké Ball from beneath his cloak and released his Swadloon. He bent down and picked up the Leaf-Wrapped Pokémon in his arms. “Jeremiah can use Flash once it gets too dark. Come on.”

At his words, another Poké Ball opened itself in the dimly lit room. Draya materialized inside Tristan’s cloak, hugging her human companion from behind. She whispered from beneath the cloth, “I hope you weren’t going to forget about me, babe.”

“I wasn’t,” Tristan said. “This might get a bit dirty, you know.”

Draya emerged from behind him, defiantly walking further down the dark hallway.

“I’m fine, this isn’t going to be like the windy desert, I can—” In the blink of an eye, Draya’s lost her footing and slipped, falling from view and tumbled down a pit of sand. Tristan watched in terror as she slipped beneath the sand and disappeared beneath them.

“Draya!” Tristan would have leapt in after her if N hadn’t grabbed him by his clothes.

“Tristan, wait!” he pointed off to the far side of the room. “There is a path leading down, we can likely get to Draya without putting ourselves in harm’s way!”

“Okay, I get it,” he shook N’s hand off of his shoulder, carefully walking along the edge of the sinking sand trap.

On N’s command, their wild Sandile guide dived down into the pit to find Draya. The two humans carefully made their way around the sand pit to the stairs and descended them quickly. They reached the floor beneath the entrance, and the light had completely faded from the sunlight and artificial lights the researchers had set up.

“Jeremiah!” Tristan called.

At his trainer’s command, the Swadloon’s eyes began to glow with white light, and opened up its leafy covering, shining a bright light that illuminated the entire second floor of the ruins. The light from the Grass type Pokémon seemed to cling to the walls and ceiling, persisting even after Jeremiah had finished casting the technique.

N’s friendly Sandile turned a corner ahead of them, getting their attention. Tristan and N raced to meet up with the Desert Croc, but didn’t need to go far to find where it was leading them.

Draya was lying unconscious on a pile of sand that constantly grew as grains trickled down from the floor above. Tristan rushed to her aid, pulling her from the dirt and holding the Zoroark in his arms.

“Draya! Draya wake up!” Tristan shook his Zoroark gently, but she failed to respond to him.

“Calm yourself, my friend,” said N. “Look, she’s seems to be breathing. She must have hit her head on the way down.”

“I need to get her help!”

“Tristan, please. Take a deep breath.” N knelt in the sand next to Tristan. “You have her Poké Ball, and you can administer medication while she is inside it, can you not?”

“But—”

“Can you not?” N asked him again, bearing down on him. “Her health is at stake, so please do not delay.”

“R—Right…” Tristan gently brushed away some of the sand that still lingered on Draya’s face, watching her breath slowly but steadily. He gathered himself and recalled Draya into her Poké Ball. In emergency cases, Poké Balls were equipped with small amounts of medicine and had an indefinite life-support system capable of sustaining a Pokémon’s life until proper medical care can be received. The medicine would need to be replaced and refilled once Tristan could reach a Pokémon center, but Draya would be able to be kept in stasis and her condition would not worsen.

Tristan held her Poké Ball as it rumbled and blinked, doing what it could to treat the Zoroark inside before it locked itself and shrunk in his hand. He checked his Pokédex and examined what the Poké Ball had to say about her status.

“How is she?” N asked.

“She was knocked out by the fall, she has a concussion.” Tristan stood up, brushing some sand from his clothes. “Let’s hurry up and look through this place. I want to get her out of here soon.”

“I agree,” N said. “Are you alright? You don’t look well.”

“I’ll be fine once we get out of here, okay?” Tristan snapped back.

“Very well.”

Tristan and N walked through the eerily lit passageways of the Relic Castle in a tense silence for some time. N had bid farewell to the wild Sandile after it told him everything it could about the Castle. It warned them about the lower floors, saying they were dangerous but didn’t say why. Apparently no wild Pokémon went below the first three floors. It wasn’t until they had decided they had searched the second floor and enough and moved on to the third that Tristan spoke up again.

“How much longer are we going to be wandering around in here?” he asked.

“I don’t want to leave any stone unturned if I can help it. I take it you are anxious to leave soon?” asked N.

“I’m just worried about Draya, that’s all. I need to make sure she’s going to be okay,” Tristan said.

“I see.” After a few more moments of silent trudging through the sand, N spoke up again. “Pardon the sudden change in topic, but do you think me a fool?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?” Tristan’s mind spun to try and figure out what N had meant.

“I’ll put it another way. Do you think that I do not notice what is very plain to see?” N didn’t seem offended or to be accusing Tristan of some insult. Genuine curiosity and sincerity were plain on his face. “I speak of the change between you and Draya.”

“We’ve changed?” repeated Tristan. He shrugged and continued down the sandy hallway. “I mean, it was a shock to find out she wasn’t a Snivy, but—”

“So you do take me for a fool,” he shook his head. “I mean the fact that you and Draya are courting each other. That is why you are so insistent that we leave here.”

Tristan stopped in his tracks, subconsciously clenching his fists. The light in the corridor slowly started to dim as the effect of Jeremiah’s illuminating Flash began to lose its strength. Before Tristan could mutter an order to replace the light, N called upon the Sigilyph he had to brighten the hallway.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” N asked expectantly.

“No, I’m just worried about her as her trainer,” Tristan said.

“So you say, but when your Whirlipede was knocked unconscious during your Gym Battle against Lenora, did you rush to give it aid, or continue on with your business?”

“I…” Tristan looked down and away from him. He had been caught and had no way to refute the claim. “Well, so what if we are ‘courting’? It’s fine, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely not.” N crossed his arms and leaned forward, “You are a _human_. The two of you are incompatible from the most basic of parameters. The two of you simply cannot be.”

Tristan felt as if he were backed against a wall. This was the most open opposition N had ever shown to him since Tristan had met him. Before now, N always seemed to respect, if maybe begrudgingly, Tristan and his life as a Pokémon trainer, only going so far as to point out their differences and go no further.

“Why do you care so much? You don’t get to decide whether or not we can be together,” Tristan said.

“Perhaps not now,” said N, shaking his head, “but when I rise up as the Hero and bring Truth to this world, humanity and Pokémon shall no longer be intertwined.”

“You’re saying you’ll split us up?” asked Tristan. “Make it illegal for humans and Pokémon to be together?”

“I will admit, after meeting you, I will regret separating _all_ Pokémon from humans. You are the first trainer I’ve ever met that I deem worthy of living with Pokémon, but… _mating_ with them?” N shuddered. “I cannot understand it. How could you push your desires upon your Pokémon?”

“‘My’ desires? You think I’m preying on her, or taking advantage of her?”

“Of course. There have been many documented cases over the years that—”

“I don’t care what you’ve read about or what you _think_ is going on,” Tristan stepped forward and grabbed N by the collar of his cloak, “but I am _not_ that kind of person! Besides,” he let him go, deciding he had gone too far. He took a breath to calm himself, “She came onto me. Not that I mind, really, but that’s what happened.”

“She… what?”

“Yeah, it was sudden and unexpected, but once she evolved she became _super_ forward with feelings I guess she’d had for a while,” explained Tristan.

“But… how can that be? A Pokémon courting a human for their mate is…” N drifted off in thought.

“I’ll bet you looked over those kind of relationships when you did your research.”

“I hadn’t found any evidence of _anything_ of the sort,” N muttered. “She really ‘came onto’ you? She instigated it?”

“Yes.”

Tristan stared back at N’s disbelieving face, watching him struggle to come to terms with what he was being told. N would begin to say some sort of rebuttal but stop himself, his words catching in his throat.

“I never imagined…” he said.

“Well, start to.” Tristan put a hand on N’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. “I… have real feelings for her. I may not have known her very long—I’ve known her real self even less than that—but that doesn’t change anything. She showed up and brought me up out of a bad place, let me live my life when I wanted to. Since then, we’ve grown and bonded together. What we are is very real.”

“I see.” N gathered his thoughts before speaking again. “Forgive me. In topics I am unfamiliar with, romance is perhaps foremost on the list. I was not there for the beginning of your ‘relationship’, I do not have all the variables. For Draya, or any Pokémon for that matter, to be the one to initiate the situation is something I never considered. In the future, I promise I won’t jump to any conclusions.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” Tristan said, offering a smile.

“But all the same, my point stands. If my world becomes true—”

“You’ll split humanity from Pokémon?” Tristan asked. “Then I will strive to protect _my_ ideal world; one where Draya and I are together.”

“I expect nothing less.” N extended a hand. “Before then, I’ll agree to no longer fight you on this if you’ll grant me some peace of mind. Please do not treat her as you might a human girl. She _is_ a Pokémon, and that means she has a side to her that humanity will never reach. Respect that.”

Tristan took his hand, gripping it tightly.

“I will.”

—————

With their bad blood behind them for the time being, N and Tristan moved further beneath the sand and deeper into the Relic Castle. Scouring empty room after empty room, going from floor after floor, they found nothing that seemed to point toward their elusive goal.

The air was getting stale and unpleasant to breathe the further they descended into the ruined remains of civilization.

Soon after they found themselves on the fifth floor of the castle, the soft sounds of the two human’s footsteps ceased in a startling fashion; someone had stepped on something very fragile. The loud crunch and crack stopped Tristan and N in their tracks.

“What was that?” Tristan asked, looking around. “I didn’t see anything on the floor but more sand.”

“It _was_ sand.” N pointed down to his feet, which were still ankle deep in the sand, but around his foot and leg were shards of thin glass scattered in the sand. N carefully picked up a sliver, turning it around so the light reflected on it as he showed it to Tristan. “When sand is exposed to tremendous heat, it melts into glass. And look,” he pointed further down the corridor. The path beyond began to sparkle as the light from Tristan’s Swadloon and N’s Sigilyph shone down the hallway.

“This may be very thin,” N said, snapping the small shard of glass between his fingers, “but do you see? It thickens.”

“I don’t get it,” Tristan said. He began to run his hand along the smooth crystalline coating that spread along the sand. Early on it would break easily, but soon could withstand pressure of a simple press of his hand. He assumed further along they could walk upon the surface if it continued to thicken. “What could have caused this?”

“Legends say that when the dragons of Truth and Ideals leave this world, they expel all of the energy left in their bodies wherever they might be in a terrifyingly destructive, or maybe, transformative way.” N visibly shook with excitement. “We might have just found where Reshiram died.”

“It looks like the sand was melted in waves. If we find where the waves begin…”

“…We’ll find what we’re looking for,” N finished for him.

The two young men did their best to avoid being cut by the sharp pieces of glass they made as they moved further down into the underground ruins. N’s Sigilyph used its psychic power to break apart the thin glass ahead of their movements as they walked until they found they were able to walk on the hardened surface that coated the floor. Dull thuds replaced the soft crunch of sand as they moved their way down the eerily lit hallways. The light emanating from their Pokémon splintered and refracted off the crystalline surfaces. The waves of cool, melted sand washed past them as they tread carefully over them. They came across entire rooms blocked off by the hardened glass, but decided it would be a bad idea to try and break into them.

“This stuff is everywhere; if we try and break some of it, the whole ceiling of glass could come raining down on us,” Tristan warned.

“Agreed,” said N, though it was clear he was unable to completely leave the rooms without investigating them. He took a small knife from his pocket and carved small symbols into the surface of the blocked off rooms. “Perhaps later…”

The sound of cracking glass caught their attention immediately—it was beginning to thin again. The doorway to their right had a unique pattern in its waves of melted glass, like ripples in water. From inside the room, and ominous orange glow poured out into the hallway they stood in. Walking inside slowly, Tristan and N came upon what might have been a throne room in the ages past. While the crystal growths grew and spiked up the columns that held up the ceiling, light that came from the Pokémon waiting by the entrance and the unknown source danced and clashed together as they sparkled and ran along the even pillars.

Tristan scanned the room, looking at the waves of melted sand emanate from the back of the room. He took a few more steps forward before N gripped the back of his shirt abruptly.

“Wait!” he said in a hushed voice. N called his Sigilyph forward and focused its light ahead of them.

The glass began to bundle and spiral upward into a bulbous growth that seemed to be attached to the back wall. Tendrils of molten glass spread outward from it, anchoring the heavy mass in place on the stone. Inside the cocoon of glass was some sort of creature, but the constantly shifting and refracting light made it difficult to tell what exactly slumbered inside. Veins of red-hot liquid glass pulsed outward from it in a slow and calm manner. Beneath the diamond-like chrysalis, strange shapes of red and orange, a mass of black and blue, and what might have been white fur could be seen, breathing in time with the fiery growths surrounding it.

“What… is that?” Tristan asked in a quiet voice. “Is it… alive?”

“I believe…” N’s voice was heavy with fear. He began backing away from the shining structure with caution. “I may have made a miscalculation… this is not the beast we seek awaken, nor is it one we would want to.”

Tristan followed N’s actions, but tripped on his own feet and slipped, falling hard on the smooth surface that coated the floor. A loud crack carried out around him, growing up the pillars and toward the menacing glowing beast.

The two humans held their breath, neither daring to move.

A heavy chunk of glass broke off of the cocoon, revealing the creature’s bright blue compound eyes. It shuddered, using its curving red horns to break away more of its splintering casing. It chattered, fluttering its wings and taking to the air. Small scales flew off of its wings as it hovered in the air, igniting as they dropped, burning hot enough to melt through the hardened glass surrounding it.

“The beast of the sun is awake!” N hauled Tristan to his feet. “We must run now!”

The fire-spreading moth took notice of the two intruders in its nest and screeched, flapping its wings hard and sending a wave of heat that sent N and Tristan falling backwards toward the entrance. The beast, Volcarona, floated menacingly in place, melting the glass around it.

“Run?” Tristan asked. “Where do we go?”

“Come!”

The two got back on their feet and ran out of the throne room. Tristan carried his Swadloon in his arms, while N’s Sigilyph floated quickly behind them. They heard the chattering calls of the newly awoken Sun Pokémon coming from behind them. Tristan almost ran into N as he abruptly stopped at a blocked off room that they had overlooked previously.

Much like the throne room where Volcarona had slumbered, waves of thick glass flowed outward from the doorway, but in a more abrupt and erratic pattern.

“Sigilyph, I need you to carefully break down this obstacle! Then reseal it behind us once we are all inside!” N commanded.

A blue aura of energy began to silently crack and find its way inside the blocked off doorway. Smoothly and neatly, a section of the glass covering slid out, leaving a round entrance to the room available. At the sound of another screech from their pursuer, the two humans and their Pokémon made their way inside the room and canceled their Flashes. N’s Sigilyph replaced the glass just before the fiery moth passed by.

Tristan breathed a sigh of relief as the chattering calls quieted.

“I apologize for putting your life in danger,” said N. “I did not know such a creature had taken up residence here.”

“What was it anyway?” Tristan asked, letting Jeremiah re-cast his Flash technique. He looked around and saw an unnatural hole in the floor, ringed black with a heavy scorch mark.

“Volcarona,” N said with reverence. “A being of fire and heat believed to be born from the sun itself. Their numbers are few, but incredibly powerful.”

“So, you don’t think there would be another one in this castle, do you?” asked Tristan.

“No, I do not believe that is likely.”

“Then what made _this_ burn mark? Or this room’s glass anyway? It’s different than the outside,” Tristan explained as he pointed around the room, finally pointing to the hole leading beneath them. From what the two could tell, and from what the light from Jeremiah could reveal, the room beneath them was large and still deeply buried in sand.

“Something…” N said quietly. “Else.” He began to glow with blue light and his Sigilyph carried him into the air, slowly lowering him down into the dark room below. N’s Pokémon followed down shortly after.

“Wait, shouldn’t we worry about that Volcarona?” Tristan asked down the hole.

He received no reply.

“N? Are you alright down there?” Tristan called.

Silence greeted him once again.

“Hey, come on! Say something!” he yelled down.

This time, Tristan was answered by a blue glow appearing over his body. The psychic power of N’s Sigilyph lifted him up and lowered him down into the room below. The levitation faded and Tristan landed softly in ankle deep sand, though it felt as if he might sink more if he moved much more. It was dark in the room, apart from the dim glow coming from Sigilyph. Tristan could see the faint outline of N standing a few feet in front of him, with his back turned.

“Jeremiah, a little light?” Tristan asked.

The Sewaddle shifted momentarily in his arms and spread light throughout the room once more. The ceiling was high above them, nearly touched by tall piles of sand that sat in the corners of the room. Old items could be seen half buried and scattered throughout the place. Tristan guessed this might have been a basement used for storage when the castle was in use.

“Tristan…” N said, looking over his shoulder at him.

“What is it?”

“Look at her…” N slowly turned around to face him, revealing something he cradled in his arms. It was smooth, round, and about as large as a basketball. Its creamy white surface was unmarked apart from three deep, evenly spaced, oval shaped grooves. N smiled down at the item in his arms warmly, gently stroking the white sphere. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“What,” Tristan started, confused at what he was seeing. “What is that?”

“It’s Reshiram, of course! Look!” N held out the orb with excitement. “Look how she’s survived down here all this time!”

“N… that’s just… a rock. You said we were looking for a dragon.”

“And I also said that dragon had died, did I not? This is what remains of the beasts of Truth and Ideals when their time comes. Their form coalesces into these stones, one Light and one Dark, waiting to awaken once more…” N pulled the Light Stone closer to himself and embraced it.

“Great, now we can finally get out of here, right?” asked Tristan. He began looking around the room for an exit. “I think that Volcarona is somewhere close by. It’s getting hotter by the second in here.”

“It is?” N asked, genuinely surprised. “I feel no change in temperature. It’s quite pleasant here, if I say so myself.”

Tristan began breathing heavily, struggling to take in air. Sweat began pouring down his face, and he began feeling very uncomfortable in his clothes. He looked back to N and found the source of his discomfort.

“N! Drop the stone!” Tristan yelled. He had to stagger backwards toward the edge of the room, the heat was becoming unbearable.

“Why should I?” N asked.

_How can he not notice!?_ “That thing is red hot! It’s burning up!”

N looked down at the heavy orb in his hands, seemingly unaware of the incredible heat it was clearly giving off. The bright red glow increased and faded into white the longer N held onto it. The sphere began to hum and burn the air around him, the waves of heat distorting his image. The Light Stone sparked and erupted into a flurry of white fire, engulfing the room the humans stood in.

Tristan averted his gaze and recalled Jeremiah, fearing for his Pokémon’s life. The heat was incredible, he could barely stand to look back in its direction.

When he finally did, Tristan saw N standing before a mass of pure white flame that grew and expanded, burning away and reducing the sand and ancient relics that were buried in it into nothing. The mass slowly began to take form; the vague shapes of wings spread themselves out from the main body, a head rose from the neck, legs planted themselves on the stone floor. Finally, a pair of bright blue eyes shone brightly and peered at the two humans.

_“Your spirit calls to me, you who embraced me with all your heart,”_ a voice rung out throughout the nearly empty room. It seemed as if the white fire was absorbing the sand and debris into itself for fuel. The being of fire lowered its head level with N’s.

_“Do you see the Truth in the world?”_ the voice was cool and calming, despite the heat its owner radiated.

“I do,” N said.

_“Show me.”_ The flame beast spread its burning wings and lowered its head, never taking its eyes off of N. _“Show me what you know to be True.”_

N smiled, reaching out with open arms, and stepped forward to hold the incomplete dragon’s head in his arms.

“N stop!” Tristan yelled through the hot air. It burned his throat to do it. “You’ll be burned alive!”

“No, I won’t, my friend.” N wrapped his arms around the muzzle of the burning form of Reshiram, resting his head against its brow.

A bright flash of light, brighter than the light from Sigilyph’s or Jeremiah’s Flash, engulfed the chamber, consuming everything. Tristan could not bear it and had to turn away again. As the heat rose even higher, Tristan feared for his life, afraid of being sublimated like the sand and stone around him.

When the light finally faded away, so did the sweltering heat. The air felt so cold in contrast that Tristan shivered. His vision was blurry and filled with spots for a few moments, but he could hear something.

A low rumble, a content growl, came from the middle of the large, and now entirely empty room.

Tristan strained his eyes to look to see what had happened to the young man who had been swallowed up by the white fire.

N was much in the same position as he was before the bright flash of light, but in his arms was no long a shifting mass of white hot energy.

The flame had cooled and became a beautiful beast of brilliant white feathers and fur. Two long trails of fur flowed off its head, billowing gently in an otherworldly wind. Two shining silver rings circled its neck, while two more confined its massive tail. Much like the rings, its claws shined and shimmered in the remaining light in the room. Large feathery wings supported its body along with its legs.

N lovingly rubbed the snout of the dragon in his embrace, holding its head close to his chest.

“I knew in my heart you would never harm me,” said N. “I finally found you.”

_“I exist to see that Truth prevails where lies reign supreme. You hold many truths close to your heart, little one.”_ Reshiram backed away from her human, and rose to her full height to survey her surroundings. _“I recognize this place, but such a state it is in saddens me. It has been long since I last took breath.”_

“Yes! It has! And the world needs to be shown the light, Reshiram! Together, we can show them!” N held his arms out high to the dragon that towered over him.

_“And we shall, my young champion.”_ Reshiram finally took notice of Tristan standing some feet away, staring up in awe at her form. _“I sense you do not believe what you see before your own eyes,”_ she said to him. _“Does this form offend you?”_

“N—No, not— I just…” Tristan had trouble finding the words. “I just never believed that the stories were… true.”

_“You align yourself with strange companions, little one,”_ she said to N. The Vast White Pokémon closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _“I see my brother still sleeps.”_

“Yes, but I believe Tristan here to be my counterpart. I know he will awaken Zekrom one day, and one day soon,” N told her.

_“Optimism and realism rarely last long together, little one, but I am willing to humor the idealist if you are.”_

Tristan couldn’t believe he was being mocked by a dragon.

“N… I,” he started. “I’m sorry I doubted you… It’s all real, isn’t it?”

The taller young man turned around to face him, smiling. “Yes, it is.”

_“I tire of this place and the memories it holds,”_ said Reshiram. _“Shall we take our leave?”_

“Wait, how are we getting out of here with… well, a gigantic dragon?” asked Tristan.

_“Take it from one who saw the construction of this place; these bricks are brittle.”_

“You want to break our way out of here? How? And you can’t just destroy it, this place is—”

_“A place is just a place, and it has served its purpose. I can remove us from this dark dungeon with ease. My champion?”_ Reshiram lowered her head down to his level. _“What do you desire?”_

“Let us leave, but don’t destroy what you can help. History and its connections led me to you, so I would like to preserve it,” N said.

_“Sentimentality can lead to hesitation. This is nothing more than an empty grave now. We must act.”_

“Yes, you are right.” N turned to Tristan, “Come, there is nothing left for us here.”

“Still though, don’t bring the whole place down, please. Wild Pokémon live in here.”

“Too true,” N said. “One such may be wreaking havoc above. We should hurry.”

_“Very well, I shall use a low flame,”_ Reshiram said, inhaling. As the white dragon began building up energy, the tips of her feathers began to glow red and an inferno started to build within the turbine-like tail. Reshiram reared her head back and let loose a white hot flame upward, cutting into the stone above them, tearing through floor after floor.

In its wake, a wide, circular hole in the ceiling led straight up into the outside air.

It took Tristan a moment to realize it was now almost nighttime. Cool air flowed down the hole into the basement they stood in. He shivered again, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“Well done!” N praised his new friend. “The castle still stands, and now we can leave.” N stepped lightly over to the dragon and climbed up onto its back. He extended a hand down to Tristan, “Come, my friend. Let us leave this place.”

After a terrifying moment, Tristan willed his legs to move toward the beast that seared its way through so many feet of stone and sand. He slowly and carefully climbed up onto Reshiram behind N, gripping the feathery fur tightly in his hands.

_“Fear not, little dreamer. I will not drop you,”_ she told him, looking over her back at him. _“You are my hero’s companion and friend. We are allies.”_

Without another word, Reshiram lowered herself closer to the floor, raising her large white wings, and took off into the hole in the ceiling. In seconds, they reached the night air, shooting up into the sky. The speed of it all shocked Tristan to no end.

_“Well now, who is this pretender to my throne?”_ asked Reshiram. She held her place in the air above the desert, looking down at a trail of fire that was scattered and smoldering off in the direction of the nearest city.

“That Volcarona…” Tristan said. “It’s headed for Nimbasa! They have no idea it’s coming!”

“All the lights and sounds must have attracted its rage,” N said. “Reshiram! Innocents are in danger. We must go and remove the threat.”

_“So say you, my Hero of Truth…”_ Reshiram built up another flurry of energy in her tail, preparing to take off toward the shining city. _“Let us show the world the truth you hold most dear to your heart.”_

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	14. Long Live the King

—————

There is a question that has been asked by every ground-dweller to ever see a creature take flight. Bearing witness even just once to the freedom of a bird or some winged insect forces and instant and sudden awareness of how trapped they are on the ground. The sky is a plane of existence that is simply outside of their reach. They then begin to wonder what it feels like, what it looks like—what it could _mean_ —to soar through the air and above the clouds. The question that they ask is, of course: “What is it like to fly?”

As he clung to the back of the white dragon Reshiram and felt the cold night air whip at his face, Tristan learned what it was like to fly.

The earth below him felt detached from reality, much like how the sky felt when he walked on the ground. The world had shrunk and he had become a giant. There were no obstacles or barriers in the air. Up in the sky, Tristan realized, freedom was everywhere.

Except right now, he was just along for the ride.

Tristan was a passenger. From the rise and fall of Reshiram’s breathing, to the heavy beats of her wings, to their speed and direction, everything was out of his control.

Ever since the dragon’s revival Tristan wanted nothing more than to run away it. A primal urge that he couldn’t explain welled up within him and demanded that he avoid the incredible beast at any cost. His hands shook against the wind as they gripped onto Reshiram’s feathery fur, conflicting instincts urging him both to hold on and push away.

_“Hold tight, now,”_ Reshiram’s voice carried on back to him. _“We have a lot of distance to cover without much time.”_

Fighting the constant sensation of falling, Tristan peeked around N further up the beast’s back, and looked at the view ahead of them. Nimbasa City was approaching at such a speed he felt like he was dreaming. It would only be minutes before they were within the city’s limits. He turned around and was able to see Castelia City in the distance as nothing more than a bundle of twinkling lights. Beneath them the sands of the desert sped by, glowing red and orange from the trail of flames left by their target.

“Tristan!” N called over the wind. “I need to borrow your communications device!”

“Why?”

“I do not own one, and word _must_ be sent to aid the city!”

Tristan carefully pulled the XTransceiver from his wrist and handed it to N. Despite not owning a “communications device” himself, N seemed to have no trouble using it.

“Hello, Father? I’m sure you are wondering why I am calling from this number, but there is no time! I have found and resurrected Reshiram but there is an even more pressing matter to attend to. A Volcarona is about to attack Nimbasa City and we will likely need a significant response to prevent a catastrophe.” N held the device close to his ear to listen to the response.

“I’ll ask.” He turned around to Tristan, “Where do you think the Volcarona might be headed? What could draw its attention in the city? My Father needs to know so he can send us help!”

“I don’t know! Nimbasa City has a lot of things going on in it, especially— Wait…” Tristan suddenly remembered something about the time of year and their impending destination. “It’s the _fourteenth_!”

“What of it? Is the date significant?”

“Of course you don’t know,” Tristan said. “It’s the _Master Bowl_! The biggest football game of the year! It’s being held in Nimbasa this year! Tonight!”

“Football; large crowds of innocent people in a brightly lit and confined space?” N asked.

“Exactly.”

“Understood.” N returned to yelling into the microphone of the wrist-communicator. “Father, the ‘Master Bowl’ may be the point of interest. What say you?” N listened to the response once again. “Truly?! We will do what we can!”

N handed the device back to Tristan, who was about to ask about the sudden urgency.

“We must hurry! According to my father, television coverage of that event has confirmed your suspicions!” N rubbed the feathers on Reshiram’s neck. “Please, we must stop the beast.”

_“Of course,”_ said the Vast White dragon.

“Wait!” Tristan yelled.

“What is it?” N asked.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan closed his eyes, letting his grip loosen on the dragon’s fur. “I… I can’t ride with you anymore.”

_“It appears I_ do _offend, then._ _”_

“Surely, not!” N turned around on his dragon’s back, grabbing Tristan’s shoulders. “Come to your senses, my friend! You and I can stop this menace together!”

“I just… I’ll continue on the ground. I just can’t ride on your dragon anymore.”

N stared at Tristan for a moment, deep in thought.

“I believe I understand. Perhaps an alternative then?” N reached behind himself and offered Tristan a Poké Ball. “Sigilyph can fly fast through the air even carrying your weight. It may be wise for you to make it to our location before my dragon and I do, as I need to rendezvous with my Father beforehand.”

“I’ll take it!” Tristan caught the ball N tossed toward him. He stood on Reshiram’s back, readied the Poké Ball, and leapt off into the night air. After an exhilarating moment of free-fall, Tristan released the Pokémon he had been given. The strange winged creature quickly flew down and matched his fall, using its forked limbs to grab Tristan underneath his arms. The Sigilyph’s mind responded to Tristan’s urgency, and brought him back apace with Reshiram and N.

“How do you fare?” N called beside him.

“Better,” Tristan said. It was true; the moment he had leapt from Reshiram’s back, the sense of danger and unease left him. It returned, however, the moment the dragon turned her gaze toward him again.

_“Good. Now, fly little dreamer. There are people to save.”_

Tristan only nodded and then commanded Sigilyph to fly as fast as it could. He looked back in time to see Reshiram change course, flying off to meet with N’s father, Tristan assumed.

“I never did ask who his father was,” he mused as Nimbasa City came up beneath him. Buildings and roads littered with fresh, burning embers drew his focus back to the task at hand. He only owned three Pokémon—four, if Sigilyph could be considered—and one was out of commission.

_Draya, just hold on for a little while longer. I_ _’ll think of something._

Tristan weighed the odds in his head, coming up uneven every time.

“Don’t let me down, N.”

—————

[“Third-and-fourteen on the Liepard’s forty-eight yardline, twenty-six seconds to go in the half!”]

The announcer’s voice rang out over the loudspeakers of Nimbasa City’s Big Stadium, somehow drowning out the roar of the crowd that had filled the sporting arena to capacity. Fans of both the Nimbasa Liepards and the Opelucid Druddigons cheered with all their might as they watched their favorite team compete for the “Donovan Cole Trophy”, the ultimate prize in professional Unovan football.

High above the field in a sectioned-off segment of seats for the rich and famous, a tall man with dirty orange hair yawned as he made his very late arrival to the Master Bowl.

“Whaaa—” another yawn caught him off guard. “What’d I miss?”

“Nearly half the game, sir,” a waiter answered him. “Would you care for a drink?”

The reigning Champion of the Unova region waved the man down, declining the offer.

“I’m not staying long. I only came to see the half-time show anyway,” Alder said. He scratched the stubble on his chin, looking to see how much longer remained in the segment of game-time.

“Not a fan of the sport itself, or did your team not make it this year?” asked a woman. She was sitting in a seat a few rows down from where Alder stood.

“Well, well! Now there’s a pretty face you don’t see every day,” Alder grinned wide as he walked down the steps. “Quite the meeting of the minds, eh Miss Cynthia?”

“I’ll be sure to let you know when another mind joins us.” She kept her eyes on the game in front of her as she spoke to him.

“Oh, you’re too much,” Alder sat in the seat next to the Champion from Sinnoh, laughing loudly. “What brings you to this noisy spectacle?”

“I’ve been traveling these past few months,” said Cynthia. “After I arrived in Unova, I realized I’d never been to one of your region’s football games, so I decided why not go to the biggest one?”

“Traveling for pleasure, then?” Alder turned in his seat to look directly at the blond-haired woman.

“Not at first,” she said, sighing. “I had planned this trip to investigate some old ruins, but I didn’t find anything remarkable or noteworthy other than some rocks in the snow. It was so unremarkable I barely remember any details of my time there.”

“Shame.” Alder crossed his arms, hiding them in the sleeves of his poncho. “Never a shortage of old remnants to explore in Unova. I could take you on a tour, if you like.”

“No, thank you,” she shook her head. “I’d hate to take valuable time away from another region’s Champion.”

“What about your own duties, if I might ask?”

“Sinnoh runs its League on a seasonal circuit,” Cynthia said. “It’s the off-season.”

“But what if some terrible calamity befalls your home while you are away?” Alder asked, embellishing the concern in his voice.

“You tell me,” she said, giving him a sideways glance.

Alder laughed again, stamping his feet on the floor. “Oh you are just an absolute _delight_!”

[“TOUCHDOWN LIEPARDS!”]

The two Champions’ attention was pulled down back to the game by the loud announcement.

“Yeah!” Cynthia got to her feet, yelling her praise for the home-team.

[“With no time on the clock, they set up for a two-point conversion, trying to close the gap in the score. Here’s the snap! The Druddigon’s defense tries to take down the quarterback, but he throws it into the endzone—And it’s caught!”]

“And that’s the half,” Alder said, leaning back in his seat. “Now the best part of these games is about to start.”

“What is that?” asked Cynthia.

“Oh come on, you should know what the half-time show is.”

“No, _that_!”

Cynthia was pointing up at a spot on the ceiling of the stadium, which was beginning to glow bright and molten from intense heat. The burning spot in the ceiling grew brighter and spread, sending clumps of red-hot metal and debris onto the field.

“That’s not good. What in the world—?”

The ceiling erupted in an explosion of flames, sending a wave of panic over the crowd. A large fireball flew down into the stadium from the hole in the roof and slowly dissipated, revealing the form of the Sun Pokémon, Volcarona. The television cameramen focused their cameras on the creature, its image appearing on the giant screens around the stadium. The large moth-like Pokémon captured the attention of everyone in the building, momentarily silencing their panicked clamors and screams.

The calm did not last long.

The Volcarona screeched and shook its six wings, scattering fiery scales across the football field. It began to fly around the stadium and spread its burning particles with no remorse or care for the people beneath it.

“It’s… huge.” Alder looked on with eyes wide and disbelief on his face. “I didn’t think that they grew to that size. Khepri never did, but what about Tapati or Roku?”

A slap to his face brought Alder’s attention back to the VIP section and the woman who had hit him.

“What are you doing?” Cynthia asked. “We need to get down there!” The Sinnohan Champion pulled a Poké Ball from her belt and prepared to jump down to the lower section of seats. “Come on! The people are in a panic and we need to make sure they can escape.”

“I… I don’t have any of my Pokémon with me,” Alder admitted, embarrassed. “I didn’t think I’d need any.”

Cynthia grunted in disgust, “Then what good are you?”

Alder looked on as the woman leapt down to a half-empty section of seats and continued her way down toward the field.

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t bear to hurt something so beautiful anyway.” Alder reached into his poncho and held up an empty Poké Ball. It had been empty for years. “Maybe you were related, eh Khepri? Is that your grandma or something making a mess down there?”

Alder smiled at the empty capture device, despite the situation.

“Ah, what the hell?”

He stood, straightened his outfit and looked on at the panicked crowds trying to flee the packed stadium.

“Just because we don’t have any of our team with us, that doesn’t make us useless, right Khepri?”

Alder laughed and jumped down from the VIP section, doing his best to ignore the shock that rocketed up his legs.

“Damn,” he said under his breath. “This is a young-Champion’s game.”

—————

“Careful… Now, take this turn a bit _easier_!”

Tristan had difficulty controlling his own momentum while being carried through the air by Sigilyph. Being held underneath his arms left most of his body to dangle freely as the psychic Avianoid flew through the city streets after their target.

“Still better than being on Reshiram, I guess,” Tristan said.

The trail of lingering embers didn’t make its way directly to the stadium where the Master Bowl was being held. Tristan saw as they flew above the buildings of Nimbasa that the Volcarona must have wandered around the city for some time before being drawn toward the large sporting event.

Below him, Tristan noticed the roads were crowded with cars driving in the opposite direction of the stadium.

“I hope everyone got out okay.”

As his destination came into view Tristan saw even more people fleeing on foot from Nimbasa’s Big Stadium. A sizable hole could be seen from where the Volcarona had blasted through the roof, the edges of which still smoldered and burned. Sigilyph flew Tristan up to the roof and set him down near the hole. The trainer and Pokémon crept closer to the edge and looked down.

From what Tristan could see, there were still many fans and spectators in various sections of the stadium, either trapped by the many flames scattered about or slowly trying to make their way out through the overcrowded exit-ways. He had trouble spotting the Volcarona at first until it came into view as it dodged some trainer’s valiant effort from the field.

A woman with long blond hair stood next to two Pokémon that Tristan didn’t recognize—a colorful serpent and a reptile covered in spikes.

“Okay… _Okay_.”

Tristan stepped back from the hole, careful to maintain his balance on the sloped roof.

“What can I do?”

Sigilyph floated in front of him, making a calming chiming noise. The strange flying Pokémon seemed to be encouraging him.

“I just need to stall for time…” Tristan said, nodding. “I have Cole, Jeremiah, and you. You’ll help me, right?”

Sigilyph blinked its single eye and fluttered behind Tristan again, holding the human beneath his arms.

“Okay,” Tristan grabbed his two other Poké Balls from his belt and ran toward the hole in the roof. He jumped down into the stadium, letting Sigilyph take over. The Psychic type Pokémon seemed to be picking up on his plan telepathically, as it took him high above their target without Tristan commanding it.

“Cole, Poison Tail!”

Tristan sent out his Whirlipede from the air, being careful to aim his Pokémon’s release in the path of the Volcarona. Cole fell and spun himself, sending his spines crashing into the Volcarona’s back like a saw blade, causing it to recoil and shake the Whirlipede off. Tristan quickly recalled Cole before he fell to the ground.

The Volcarona turned around and looked up to see who had attacked it, chattering angrily.

“Okay, now we _go_!”

Sigilyph flew downward at a frightening pace, baiting the Volcarona to follow them.

“You can attack it, right?” Tristan asked the Pokémon carrying him. An upbeat series of tones rang out as a response. “Let’s see,” he pulled his Pokédex from his pocket and quickly looked for what attacks the borrowed Pokémon might know.

“Air Cutter,” Tristan said aloud, but Sigilyph must have taken it as an order, as it immediately turned to face the angered Sun Pokémon that was following them around the stadium.

It flapped its strange, colorful wings in place, sending near-invisible blades of wind toward the speeding Volcarona. The attacks hit their target, sending it reeling back and crashing into an empty section in the stands.

“Alright!” Tristan praised the Sigilyph’s surprise attack. “That looked like it hurt. Hey, fly down to the middle of the field,” he pointed in the direction of the other trainer. “Let’s group up with her.”

When he finally touched down on the turf, Tristan was greeted with admonishment rather than gratitude.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the woman said. “Get out of here before that thing gets back up! Don’t think that attack of yours put it down for good.”

“What did I do wrong?” Tristan asked. “You looked like you needed the help.”

“I…” she looked to her two remaining Pokémon, who both had burns covering their bodies and looked exhausted. “You’re right. I was nearing defeat and you were very capable, I’m sorry. That was quite the move, dropping in from the roof like that. Thank you for showing up when you did.”

“Don’t mention it,” Tristan said. He released Cole and Jeremiah onto the field, “Now get out of here. I gotta hold this thing’s attention until help arrives.”

“With what? Two bugs and a wind chime?” the blonde asked. “You’re gonna need a bit more muscle than that. Milotic, Garchomp, we’re still on duty!” The woman’s Pokémon nodded and joined Tristan’s in a defensive position.

“Who are you?” asked Tristan. “Those look like pretty foreign Pokémon.”

“Cynthia,” she said. “It’s nice that my reputation hasn’t preceded me for once.”

“Should I know you?”

“Don’t worry about it, my boy,” a new voice came from behind the two. “I bet she gets plenty of attention from young men as it is.”

“Champion Alder?!” Tristan’s mouth hung open. “Y-You’re here?”

“In spirit,” Cynthia said dismissively. “What do you think you can do without any Pokémon, old man?”

“There is no one in this whole damn region who knows that beast better than me, little lady,” Alder said in a low voice. “Plus, I helped get people out of the stadium on the way. I think I’m doin’ just fine by myself.”

“Fair enough,” Cynthia said. “Now, trainer?”

“Tristan Blake, ma’am.”

“‘Ma’am’….” Alder held back a laugh.

Ignoring the older gentleman, Cynthia continued, “You said there was help coming, didn’t you?” She pointed to where the Volcarona had fallen. It was now hovering above the section of bleachers and slowly fluttering their way. “It better be soon.”

“I hope so…”

“Now, what you’re gonna want to do is try and blind it,” Alder said, coaching the two trainers. “Their kind relies heavily on their eyesight and don’t do well in the dark. That’s why they’ll set such powerful fires at night.”

“My Swadloon could cover its eyes with leaves and silk, but wouldn’t it just burn them off?” Tristan asked.

“Not right away. It should start to panic once it loses its eyesight, then we can catch it off guard.”

“How smart are these creatures?” asked Cynthia. “I wouldn’t expect such a simple trick to work more than once. We’ll also need a distraction now that it’s even angrier than it was when it got here.”

As an answer to Cynthia’s request, a terrifying howl rent the air from the hole in the ceiling and reverberated throughout the stadium. The three trainers, their Pokémon, and even the Volcarona that had been menacingly approaching the trio all turned their attention upward at the bone-chilling roar.

The remaining spectators in the stadium also stopped in their tracks from their panicked escape, curiosity winning over their fear of the dangerous situation.

“Finally,” Tristan said, unsure whether he felt relieved or more worried about the impending arrival.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” asked Cynthia.

“That should be our help.”

The roar came again, louder than before, drawing the Volcarona higher into the air above the football field and closer to the hole in the ceiling. A bright light shone down through the hole from outside, slowly growing in intensity. A great fireball crashed through the ceiling, not nearly small enough to fit through the hole that the Volcarona had made, sending more debris falling down onto the field and seats. The sudden attack hit the curious Sun Pokémon head on, sending it crashing down onto the field in a fiery blast.

Soon after the sphere of flames erupted from the ceiling the Vast White dragon Reshiram came down from the sky, flapping its large wings to fan its flames, roaring all the while.

Tristan could see from where he was that N valiantly rode on his dragon’s back. “Took him long enough,” he said.

“What— What on _earth_?!” Cynthia balked. “That’s some kind of dragon, correct? It reminds me of the kind of creatures spoken of in Sinnohan legends.”

“That’s Reshiram, the Dragon of Truth,” Tristan tried to explain quickly. “My friend and I accidentally woke up that Volcarona trying to find it.”

“Well, well, well,” Alder spoke up, sighing. “Looks like my days as Champion just got numbered.”

Breaking their short sense relief, the Volcarona shot up from the flames and rammed into Reshiram, sending the human flying from his seat on her back.

“Dammit,” Tristan motioned for Sigilyph to quickly catch N before he landed, but the Psychic type already followed the command before he could vocalize it. The Avianoid Pokémon zipped through the air and caught the falling human in a telekinetic bubble, bringing him safely down to the ground.

“Thank you, my good friend.” N stood on the field and smiled at Tristan, looking over the other two present. “You have all done well to last this long against such a beast.”

Reshiram screamed in pain as the much older creature forced the dragon down onto the field from a relentless assault.

“What is wrong?” N called to his dragon. “Fight back! You are clearly superior!”

“You clearly have no experience in battle,” said Alder. “Maybe I’ll keep my seat for a little longer.”

“Silence.” N demanded. “Tristan, shall we devise a plan to end this quickly?”

“We already have one,” he answered him. “We’ll need you to keep it busy with Reshiram while we get ready.”

“I will not be relegated to simply be bait,” N warned. “Reshiram and I are more than capable of defeating this opponent.”

“Really?” asked Cynthia. “Because it sure doesn’t look like it.”

The longer Reshiram continued to fight on its own without N’s guidance it became apparent the newly-resurrected dragon had no idea how to handle her opponent. Her Fire type attacks appeared to be powerful, but weren’t doing much damage to the Volcarona. The Sun Pokémon would also beat its wings hard to send powerful gusts of wind at Reshiram, or vibrate them at an incredible rate to attack with high-pitched sound waves.

“She can’t fight that thing on her own, N,” Tristan tried to explain. “A Pokémon needs their trainer’s guidance in battle, especially when your opponent is much older and experienced. Reshiram _just_ woke up; you can’t expect her to be invincible.”

N stared on with a pained look on his face. Each time Reshiram would call out in pain he would wince and grit his teeth.

“N, come on!”

“Fine!” he clenched his fists. “Even though it is unfitting for one such as I. Now, direct me on what I need to do.”

Following Tristan’s orders, N commanded Reshiram to disengage direct combat with the Volcarona and lead it around the stadium in a chase while Jeremiah prepared a blanket of leaves strung together with silk. Tristan took hold of the soon-to-be-blindfold and called over Sigilyph.

“You’re going to do it yourself?” Alder asked.

“My Swadloon would be in too much danger of getting caught up in all the fire and we’ll need to be fast.” Sigilyph once again gripped Tristan under his arms and levitated him a few feet above the ground. He looked down to the turf to his Whirlipede, “Cole, you’ll be going to follow Cynthia’s order to attack since I’ll be a bit busy. Got it?”

“We’ll be waiting for you to make your move.” Cynthia motioned some silent commands to her two Pokémon, preparing for their time to attack. Tristan’s Whirlipede rolled up next to the tall woman, rocking back and forth to say he was prepared to follow he orders.

“As will I,” said N.

“Start us off then,” Tristan said to him.

N nodded and ran off, calling out to Reshiram. The dragon altered her flightpath, swooped down to pick up her human trainer, and then quickly took back to the air, the Volcarona still following after the Vast White Pokémon. Once reunited, N and Reshiram were capable of fending off the attacks of the Bug-Fire type much better.

“Good luck, boy.” Alder said to Tristan. “I’ll call it out to you when its attention is focused on your friend.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.”

Tristan and Sigilyph rose higher into the air, waiting for the right moment. N was to lure the Volcarona low to the ground in middle of the field and keep its attention focused on himself while Tristan and Cynthia prepared their ambush. If all went as planned, once the blindfold was covering the beast’s eyes, Cynthia’s two Pokémon, Tristan’s Whirlipede, and Reshiram were to attack the Volcarona all at once to try and knock it unconscious.

Looking up and around the stadium, Tristan was surprised to see that there were still a few cameramen that hadn’t fled the stadium despite the panic the Volcarona had brought. The large screens that were placed at each end of the stadium were displaying a camera’s view of Reshiram’s flight through the stands. There was even a camera trained on himself, Cynthia, and Alder, putting a strange pressure on him that Tristan hadn’t felt before.

_Whether we pull this off or not_ _… the whole world is going to see this._

“Go!”

Tristan’s attention snapped back down to the field at Alder’s command. He saw the Volcarona had its back to him, with N and Reshiram goading it into a battle of competing fire attacks. He urged the Sigilyph on his back to push forward, hoping that he didn’t miss his chance to execute their risky maneuver.

Cynthia silently directed the three Pokémon under her command to spread out but stay behind their target so as to not alert the creature too soon.

Sigilyph’s surprising speed brought Tristan up behind it in a rush of air and heat from the two battling Fire types. He spread out the blanket of silk and leaves and swung it over the Volcarona’s head, pulling down hard and twisting the blindfold in a hasty knot.

As Alder had predicted, the Volcarona began to panic. It spun in the air, flapping its wings wildly and scattering burning particles all around it. The ancient beast screeched and shook its head, trying desperately to dislodge the blindfold from its head.

“Great! Now, hit it while—!”

A great blast of heat knocked himself and the Sigilyph out of the air, sending them sailing backwards and crashing down toward the ground, thankfully landing while surrounded by a Protect bubble from the latter. Once the sudden attack had subsided, Tristan stood up on his feet and saw they had been blown far down the field from where they had been. He looked up to see what had become of their endeavor and was at a loss for words.

The shape of a Volcarona made of flames hovered where their target had been, as if the beast had lost its physical form and became nothing but fire itself. The blindfold had become nothing more than ash blowing in the wind. Cynthia and the other Pokémon had likewise been unable to escape the blast and were left lying on the field from the flash of heat.

N and Reshiram had been knocked back as well, but quickly recovered their wits and moved to rescue Cynthia and the felled Pokémon from the Volcarona’s wrath. The large dragon gently carried the injured parties to where Tristan stood on the opposite end of the field.

Alder ran along beneath Reshiram, concerned about the group’s wellbeing. “Are you okay?”

Cynthia stood uneasily after being set on the turf, recalling her unconscious Pokémon. “Still breathing, but I’m beginning to think we won’t be for much longer. I’m out of options.” She looked Alder in the eye, understanding in her expression. “I’m sorry. We didn’t move fast enough, and now I’m in the same boat as you.”

“Where’s— oh!” Tristan looked down to his side and saw his Whirlipede, Cole, still alive and alert. Minor burns marred his hard, round shell but otherwise he seemed no worse for wear. “You’re okay. Good thing we practiced your Iron Defense out in the desert.”

“What’s it doing?” Cynthia asked, pointing down the field.

The Volcarona, still covered in flames, began to float around its end of the field in rapid circles, igniting whatever it got close to. It increased its speed as the fires grew, slowly forming a towering vortex of flame. The beast chattered and danced an inferno that threatened to burn the whole stadium down.

“I believe,” Alder said, wiping his brow of sweat, “it’s run out of patience.”

“What can we do?” Tristan asked.

“Run.” Alder shook his head. “And hope we can rebuild once the fire dies down. Nothing stops a Volcarona when it gets like that. You can’t outrun the sun.”

“Preposterous.” N stared on defiantly at the tornado of fire ahead of him. “Nothing is impervious. Running and trickery are clearly not the solution to this problem.” N brushed the feathery fur of his dragon, who turned to look at him on her back. “Overwhelming physical force is the only option left to us, so it must be the _Truth_.”

_“Well said, oh champion mine.”_

“You tried that already, remember? You and Reshiram could only match its strength before, and now look at it,” Tristan tried to talk sense into his friend.

“As Alder stated,” said N, “the Volcarona thinks it has already won, and is executing its endgame. I must meet that resolve with my own— no. _We_ must.”

Reshiram flapped its wings, taking to the air once more. A great fire began building within its engine-like tail as it began to draw in air and heat from the small fires that littered the stadium from the Volcarona’s rampage. The ends of Reshiram’s white feathers began to shine red with an incredible energy and her eyes shined a bright blue.

“Let us show them all, Reshiram!” N yelled atop the dragon. “The Truth that cannot be argued or denied!”

Reshiram responded with a howling roar that shook the ground. The buildup of energy from within the dragon reached its apex, causing white shoots of flame to begin igniting all over the dragon’s body, soon covering the beast from head to tail. A white mimicry of the Volcarona’s fiery form—or perhaps the true form of such a technique—hovered above the field opposite the vortex of orange flame.

“You’ll get yourself killed, boy! Don’t try at being a hero!” Alder yelled up at the young man engulfed in white fire, but no response came. The burning white mass just flapped its wings in preparation of its impending strike.

“Get down!” Tristan pulled the two Champions down to the turf as Reshiram took off toward down the field. “Cole! Sigilyph!”

The two Pokémon acted on Tristan’s command, both putting forth a protective barrier to save the humans behind them.

“Go for it, N!”

Tristan wasn’t sure if his voice managed to carry over the roaring flames, but Reshiram seemed to respond by releasing a great burst of energy from her tail, sending her rocketing toward the Volcarona sitting safe inside its swirling inferno. The impact of the initial burst of heat from Reshiram’s flight nearly ruptured the Protect barrier that the two Pokémon were maintaining, threatening to shatter it in an instant. Just before the dragon’s attack reached its target, Tristan’s Whirlipede began to shudder, its body growing and unfolding from its round shape. Four pairs of legs stamped down onto the field and a newly evolved Scolipede raised its head up high, redoubling its barrier to protect from the coming blast.

The effect wasn’t immediate, catching everyone off guard. Reshiram’s fiery form pierced Volcarona’s wall of flames like an arrow. N and his dragon disappeared silently and without any visible reaction from Volcarona. Before anyone could voice their confusion, the pillar of flames erupted with a force immeasurably stronger than Tristan had been expecting. The combined barrier of Cole and Sigilyph held, but the two Pokémon were pushed back along the field.

What felt like a deafening eternity beneath the protective bubble lasted seconds in reality.

As the stadium fell quiet once again, Tristan looked up from the ground to witness the aftermath.

Reshiram was perched atop the Volcarona, the latter of which had been forced down onto the ground. The large bug’s wings would flutter and buzz occasionally, earning it a warning roar from the Vast White dragon that had just outright defeated it. N could be seen standing triumphantly on his dragon’s back, arm held up high into the air.

The dragon roared loudly, absorbing the residual flames from throughout the stadium again, either to prevent any further damage or as a show of dominance to the Volcarona. The stadium was still standing and the Hero of Truth had claimed victory.

“Yes!” Tristan jumped and yelled. “That was amazing! We—”

The trainer’s eyes caught movement coming down from the stairs in the stands. A large crowd of people in matching uniforms had begun marching into the stadium, slowly making their way onto the field. From the distance, Tristan didn’t recognize them until he saw their image appear on the large screens around the stadium. Members of Team Plasma were marching toward N and Reshiram.

“No… What are _they_ doing here?” Tristan clenched his jaw. “Cole!” Jumping onto the back of his Scolipede, Tristan rode to intercept the group of radical reformists before they could cause what he knew would be more problems. As Tristan neared the procession, he could hear now that they were chanting some kind of cheer.

“Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King!”

_Their king? Is he here?_

Tristan and Cole made it to the far end of the field ahead of Team Plasma, intending to block their path and stop whatever they had planned. He hopped off Cole’s back and stood his ground between the marching troops, his Pokémon stomping his feet and brandishing his new horns.

“You people have no place here,” Tristan called out to them. “I won’t let you get away with whatever you have planned for this Volcarona!”

Someone then put their hand on his shoulder, startling him. Tristan whipped around in place and saw N standing before him. His clothes had become singed and burned away in parts, the worst victim being the loose white shirt he had been wearing. The black undershirt had negligible damage, but what caught Tristan’s eye was the symbol that was sewn into it, just over his heart:

Team Plasma’s badge.

“I was the one who called them here, Tristan.” N calmly spoke and wore an uneasy smile.

“Wh— What?! You?!”

“That is correct. As you will recall, I made contact with my Father to send us aid.”

Tristan looked to the group of Plasma’s followers then back to N.

“You can’t be serious,” he said. “When we met, I asked you if you were a member of Team Plasma, and you said no! When did you join them?”

“I did not join them, nor do I follow them.” N shook his head. “I am their King.”

“My Lord,” a grunt approached. “It would appear the television crews are coming this way. Shall we stop them?”

“Quite the opposite,” he said. N beckoned a few more grunts to his side, who seemed to be carrying a large bundle of white cloth and something made of gold.

As N accepted and began to put them on, Tristan recognized them as a crown and cape befitting a king straight out of a fairytale.

“I shall address the nation, and the world, regarding my triumph.” N held a hand up into the air, signaling Reshiram to let the Volcarona go free from her grasp.

“Now everyone,” another voice called out to the Plasma grunts, a voice that Tristan recognized right away. Ghetsis Harmonia shuffled along on the field and motioned with a single arm, “We need to secure this poor creature so it doesn’t bring any more harm to itself or others. Be kind, be gentle, and be careful. It is a magnificent creature, it would be a terrible shame to bring it any pain.”

Tristan shook with fear and anger, unable to move his feet. He watched the Team Plasma members move around him as if he were just an obstacle to avoid.

_What can I do? This can_ _’t be happening! The Hero of Truth… N… is Team Plasma’s_ King? _This whole time, I_ _’ve been helping him…_

N’s voice then came over the stadium’s speaker system as all of the cameras began to focus on him and his dragon:

[“Attention, people of the Unova region! I am Natural Gropius Harmonia, but you may call me ‘N, Team Plasma’s King’! I speak to you today as the fabled Hero of Truth! Look, as I have found and resurrected Reshiram, the great Dragon of Truth, living proof of my conviction and goals—Team Plasma’s goals!

[“This night, I have quelled this unruly beast behind me,”] he gestured grandly at the subdued Volcarona. [“It threatened the lives of many people in its rage, but with the power I now wield—Reshiram’s power—Nimbasa City stands!

[“I did this without the use of those sinister devices known as Poké Balls! Reshiram and I simply heard each other’s voice and shared in our desires to create a peaceful and prosperous Unova! That is the Truth! That Truth is what woke her from her slumber, that Truth is what defeated our powerful opponent, and that Truth is what will unify Unova—then soon the world—under the banner of Team Plasma!

[“Know this; I do not believe in half-truths. I was not alone this night! I was aided in my search for Reshiram, as well as in our battle against the magnificent Volcarona, Embodiment of the Sun, by my friend, Tristan Blake of Nuvema Town!”]

Tristan watched the image of N on the screens as he held out his arms in a warm and welcoming gesture and then saw the cameras focused on him.

“Come,” N said directly to him, “I wish for you to join me in this most joyous occasion, o’ Hero of Ideals.”

“What?” Tristan asked. He forgot the television cameras and microphones that were near him. Walking closer to N, he asked again. “What did you say?”

“It cannot be a secret to you, my friend. I told you before; I believe, from the bottom of my heart, that you and I are bound by a shared destiny. You are my equal and opposite, the dark to my light, forever the optimist to my realistic view points on the world. I name you, Tristan Blake, the Hero of Ideals, future master of Zekrom, Dragon of Ideals!

“And now, brother…” N closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I ask you to join me and my cause.”

Tristan could hear murmurs coming from the stands as a few people had returned to see the results of the clash themselves. He could feel their gazes pouring down onto him, the moments that ticked by worsening the pressure he felt.

“In times past, the two Heroes of Unova would be united for a time, but would soon come to war with one another. I aim to destroy that cycle of unnecessary conflict and bloodshed! I have the vast resources of Team Plasma at my disposal, and your intuition to guide us to Zekrom, now lying in wait somewhere in this region! Together, you and I will create a perfect world for Pokémon!”

“Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King!”

[“No.”]

Tristan’s answer echoed through the stadium, silencing the chanting of the Team Plasma members, and causing N’s demeanor to shift drastically.

“I won’t join you, N.” Tristan stepped forward, standing against someone he had been fighting alongside only moments ago. “Team Plasma is an evil, cruel organization with only selfish goals in mind and I cannot believe you would ever be someone associated with them. You are a good person who would never harm Pokémon or steal them from their trainers! Team Plasma is wrong!”

“A disappointing, but not an unexpected answer, my friend. It pains me to see that you have chosen this path for yourself,” N said, shaking his head slowly. “I will leave you with this then, my friend: if you wish to fight for your ideal world, find Zekrom soon.”

N turned to face the camera then, a fierce and determined look burning in his eyes.

[“Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and Champion Alder, I speak to you now. I, Team Plasma’s one true King will show you all that there is a better way! I will show you all that we can accomplish by treating Pokémon as friends, not as tools or weapons, not as objects or possessions. I will take part in your ‘Gym Challenge’ and become this region’s Champion with my own power, the very same power that awoke Reshiram, my Truth!”]

N climbed atop his dragon, still speaking to the camera.

[“Cilan, Chili, and Cress of Striaton City, prepare yourselves!”]

The Hero of Truth and his dragon took to the air, the beast of white fire howling into the air as the pair exited the stadium through the hole in the ceiling.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” a low voice said in Tristan’s ear. “Such a beautiful creature will burn away the old, festering ways this nation still clings to, and from the ashes a wonderful new world will stand in its place.”

“You think so?” Tristan turned to face the voice, knowing full well who it belonged to. “Want to say that again for the cameras?”

Ghetsis smirked and turned away, “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, my son. I didn’t say a thing.”

“Mr. Blake! Mr. Blake!” a small group of news reporters with their own camera crews had now arrived on the scene, as well as a crowd of civilians. The swath of people converged on the young trainer with a sea of questions and demands.

“UUN News; is it true _you_ are the Hero of Ideals, like Team Plasma’s leader said?”

“I… I don’t—”

“League Radio; can I get an interview? You helped find Reshiram for Team Plasma, are you secretly working with them?”

“Of course not!” he denied.

“What about Zekrom? Where’s your dragon?”

“I don’t have a dragon!”

“What about the black dragon sighted over Castelia City a few weeks ago? That wasn’t you?”

“Th-That was—”

Tristan felt the XTransceiver on his wrist vibrating, and he looked to see that it was showing multiple incoming calls. Bianca, Cheren, Professor Juniper, his mother and father were all trying to get in touch with him.

_What is happening?_

He looked up at the expectant faces before him, then at the image of his dumbstruck face on the giant screens around the stadium.

Noise faded away into a dull buzz, the world spun around him, and his legs felt weak.

Before he swayed and fell to his side, a strong arm clasped his shoulder and another patted his chest.

“Hey, leave the young man be, will you?” Alder grinned wide at the cameras, stealing the spotlight. “Our ‘Hero of Ideals’ just fought with all he had to stop that burning menace, give him some space for a while before you go dumping the whole world on him.”

Alder then began to lead Tristan off of the field, shooing away more reporters and spectators on their way.

“Alder?”

“Don’t sweat it kid, I’m getting you out of the public eye for a bit. You’ve earned it.”

Tristan sighed, saved from falling to his knees only by Alder’s support.

“I’ve got a nice room under an alias for the next few days ready and waiting, it’s all yours.”

“What about you?” Cynthia had followed the two off the field and into the halls and passages beneath the stadium, most likely to escape the paparazzi of a foreign region.

“I need to get home to Floccesy Town,” Alder said. “I’ve been a wandering bum for too long.”

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


	15. Undisclosed Desires

—————

With a hood over his head and a room key in his shaking hand, Tristan rode the elevator alone and in silence up to the suite Alder had given him. Shock from the day’s events had finally caught up with him, leaving him numb and out of touch with the world. The doors nearly closed on him at his destination, but he snapped to attention and caught them before he was shut inside.

He took slow and heavy steps to the door, weakly pushing it open.

Once inside, he simply sat on the floor, unable to move another muscle. He sat there for minutes on end, staring into the dark of the room.

Tristan couldn’t bear to check the XTransceiver he felt vibrating on his wrist. He’d been receiving calls and messages non-stop ever since he appeared on television at the Master Bowl, but he ignored every single one. He didn’t know what he could say to anyone who saw him today, not to his best friends or even his own parents.

A knock on the door nearly scared Tristan out of his skin, sending him leaping to his feet and hiding behind a chair.

“Mr. Adeku? Hotel staff.”

Tristan caught his breath and slowly made his way to the door and opened it.

“Sorry to disturb you, but the Pokémon that were left at the front desk to receive medical attention are now fully recovered.” The attendant handed Tristan a tray of four Poké Balls and gave a short bow, before walking back down the hallway.

Shutting the door again, Tristan walked into the room properly for the first time, looking at the lavish furniture and decorations. He found himself surprised N’s Sigilyph’s ball was included with his Pokémon.

“That’s right…” Tristan remembered that N had never asked for the Pokémon he'd lent back before he exited the stadium in such a grand fashion. “I’ll get you back to your trainer one day.”

He set the tray down on a table next to the single bed, then grabbed one of the spheres with a shaking hand.

“Please be okay…”

A single press of the button expanded the red and white sphere and another press, this time held, unlocked it from its stasis mode. Tristan thankfully didn’t need a third press to release its occupant; she did that herself.

The bright flash of light stung Tristan’s eyes but he didn’t blink. He watched the release fully and did not shy away.

Draya, the bipedal foxlike creature who could speak human language, stood and shook herself, whipping her large mane of red and black fur back and forth.

“Ugh,” she grimace and stuck out her tongue. “That felt _ugly_ ,” she turned and faced Tristan, “What’d you do to me?”

“Stasis lock,” he said in a low mumble. “You were hurt.”

“Hey, what’s with the voice?” the Zoroark asked. “Are you okay?”

Tristan turned on one of the small lights in the room and pulled off his hood.

“No…” he looked at her, eyes heavy and defeated.

The two sat down on the side of the bed together while Tristan laid out the events from the moment Draya had lost consciousness in the Relic Castle. As he spoke, Tristan leaned against his Zoroark’s shoulder and held one of her paws in his hand, slowly rubbing the fur with his thumb. The words fell out of his mouth as if they were made of lead, tumbling down to the floor without any energy or life behind them.

“N… is their king.” Tristan turned his head to look at her, looking for some kind of answer or solution. “If Team Plasma’s leader is the great Hero of Truth…” he hung his head, “then what can I do?”

“What you always do,” she said, lifting his chin up. “You’ll stand up for what you believe in, and I’ll do what I always do,” she gave him a quick kiss.

Caught off guard by Draya’s actions, words briefly failed Tristan. “…And that is?” he finally asked.

Draya grinned, apparently amused by his clueless stare. “Keep you from falling apart. You’re so fragile.”

“You’re right,” said Tristan. He fell backwards onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The XTransceiver on his wrist vibrated again and Tristan pulled it off of his arm. He tossed it off the side of the bed without even a glance at its screen. “I can’t even face my friends and family. I feel pretty worthless right now.”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to agree with me,” she whined. Draya joined him on the bed, lying down beside her human trainer, and gently poked his cheek with one of her claws. She lowered her voice, almost whispering her next words. “I bet I know something that’ll make you feel better,” she teased.

Before Tristan could respond, Draya wrapped her arms around him, pulled him over to the center of the bed, and pinned him underneath her. Still on edge from the evening’s past excitement, Tristan’s arms went to try and push her away, but he stopped himself. He had gripped her shoulders tightly in the sudden movement, so Tristan relaxed and let his hands drift to her sides.

Draya took this as a sign to continue, and slowly lowered her body onto his, letting her weight push him further into the soft sheets on the bed. The Illusion Pokémon stared into his eyes and brought one of her hands to the side of Tristan’s face while the other unzipped his jacket.

Tristan began to catch on to Draya’s true intentions when her other hand trailed down his side, stopping at his waist. “Draya… I don’t know if _now_ is—” A red claw landed on his lips, silencing him.

“You said, ‘I can’t even face my friends and family’, so what does that make me? What does that make _us_?” Draya kept her clawed finger pressed against his mouth, preventing him from speaking. “You wanted to see me over everyone else,” she spoke softly, without her usual playful demeanor, and her cyan eyes betrayed a sense of sincerity the Zoroark rarely showed.

“That tells me a lot, you know.” Draya finally moved her paw away from his face and let it rest on his chest.

“I— I just needed to make sure you were alright,” Tristan said, unconvinced by his own words.

“Tristan, you can try and fool yourself, but that isn’t all you wanted, even if your attitude says otherwise. You don’t have to hold back with me…” Draya tilted her head slightly and leaned down for another kiss, this time much more forceful and insistent.

Tristan felt the soft, short fur of her muzzle rub against his face as she kissed him deeply. He felt her wet tongue press against his lips and he opened his mouth, relenting to her aggressive tactics. Immediately Tristan was greeted by a rush of unexpected sweetness; a product of Draya’s illusory abilities. Tristan fought back on his own, pushing back and exploring the Zoroark’s mouth with his own tongue.

No matter how many times they found themselves locked in such a passionate kiss, Tristan couldn’t help but get lost in how strange—not bad, but strange—Draya’s inhuman teeth felt. A small spark of fear would run through him whenever he felt one of her sharp fangs brush against his tongue or playfully nibble at his lip.

For a brief moment, the world fell away, and there was just the two of them, the only sound being the other’s heavy breaths in their partner’s ear.

Draya ran her fingers through Tristan’s hair with one hand while the other worked its way underneath his shirt. Her sharp claws lightly drug against his bare skin, sending shivers up his spine. Draya searched slowly and deliberately, exploring for any places that would get a reaction out of her human.

“I won’t pretend to know exactly what you went through,” Draya said after she broke the deep kiss, “but I can tell you’re really upset about it. I don’t want you feel bad anymore.” She licked the side of his face, stopping at his ear. “I can help you feel better,” she whispered. “You want that, right?”

“I—” Tristan started, but the words caught in his throat. In the past, whenever the two of them had exchanged physical affections, something had always stopped them from experimenting past kissing. Tristan’s unease and uncertainty of his own feelings had always pushed the idea of physical intimacy away. Now, however, he could think of little reason to hold back.

“Of course I do, but… why now?” he managed to ask.

“Because,” Draya pushed herself up on her hands and knees, backed down further on the bed, and straddled his legs. “You chose me over everyone else when you wanted someone to comfort you. Also, I want to satisfy those desires you keep buried deep down inside yourself.” She slowly undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and hooked her claws under the waistband of his underwear. “I know a thing or two about these kinds of things, you know. Just trust me.”

“Does that mean you’ve… _done things_ like this before?” asked Tristan. A strange, new brand curiosity ran through his head at the thought of Draya practicing any sort of intimate behavior with someone else. Tristan felt his face grow hot as his mind began to wander.

“Aww, is that jealousy?” Draya giggled. “No, I haven’t ‘ _done things_ ’ like this. I was on my own before I found you, and we’ve been so busy we've barely had any time for each other.” The Zoroark shook her head, letting her large mane of fur whip back and forth and looked down at the human beneath her. “I don’t think I ever asked… Do you mind that I’m not… human?”

“No, not at all. It’s—you know—different,” Tristan looked away, but took a hand and ran it along her thigh, rubbing her fur, “but I like you, and what you are.”

Draya grinned, “So, you like this body of mine, don’t you? I seem to remember you staring a bit right after I changed from being just a little fox. Come on, don’t be shy.”

“Yes,” Tristan said sheepishly, embarrassed to hear his answer out loud.

“Then just relax and let me show you what I can do with it,” she offered. “I’ll make you forget all about today.”

After a nod of encouragement from him, Draya slowly pulled Tristan’s lower garments down around his ankles. She grinned at the honesty his body displayed at her actions, his member already growing stiff. She gently stroked him with her paw, tugging and squeezing in a rhythm that soon had her human trainer taking heavy breaths. Draya surprised him by dropping her head to his groin and giving him a slow and heavy lick with her tongue.

Tristan groaned in pleasure at the sudden sensation. “Wh-Where _did_ you learn to do that?”

“I told you back when I evolved that I learned how to kiss from watching humans,” Draya gave him a sidelong glance. “I was surprised at how… _creative_ human mates can be when they think they’re alone,” she giggled.

“And now we’re alone,” Tristan mused to her.

“Oh, you noticed?” She gave him another lick, but this time finished the motion by taking his full length into her mouth. Draya massaged his member with her tongue and sucked lightly, gently grazing his skin with her teeth as she moved her head back and forth.

Tristan moaned and began to move in time with her oral technique, slightly thrusting into her mouth after she pulled away. He could feel Draya humming to herself in amusement at the reactions she was getting.

Draya herself was getting into things herself; Tristan watched as one of her hands wandered in between her legs.

“You— Ah, might want to slow it down, Draya,” Tristan warned, his limit suddenly much closer than he was expecting.

She released him from her mouth, though not without one last swipe of her skillful tongue.

“How’d I do?” she asked. “I always thought this kind of thing was weird, but the males I saw seemed to enjoy themselves.”

“It was good,” Tristan told her. “I just didn’t want to, uh, you know, _finish_ too soon.”

“Oh, I get it,” Draya grinned. She pushed herself up with her hands and crawled up along Tristan’s body, dragging her furred chest against him as she slid up to face him. Draya straddled him again, leaving her groin hovering over his.

“You want to save that for down here, don’t you?” Draya took one of Tristan’s hands and guided it between her legs. “Feel that?”

“I…” Tristan’s words failed him again as he let Draya probe herself with his fingers. The soft fur around her crotch had grown damp with her own excitement.

“You did that to me, you know. Not so worthless after all, huh?” she teased.

“Is that right?” Tristan asked. Feeling bolstered by Draya’s words, Tristan eased a finger inside of her, up to the second joint. He slowly worked it in and out of her, coaxing out a few pleased moans from the Zoroark.

“Does… that feel good?” he asked.

The fur around her entrance was damp and cool, a stark contrast to the heat and warmth within. Putting another finger inside, Tristan further explored the warm, slick folds of Draya’s body. The further he pushed his fingers inside her, the tighter she felt. His fingering had fallen into a rhythm of insertion and light flexing of his fingers inside of her. He could feel her inner walls clench down on his fingers slightly at his more aggressive thrusts.

Tristan pulled his fingers nearly entirely out of her, and crossed his ring and middle finger, inserting both at once with a bit more force than Draya had been expecting.

“How about that?” he asked.

“Mmn, yeah,” she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his. Draya continued to guide the hand she held and pushed his fingers deeper inside her. She let out a heavy moan, shuddering from the stimulation.

Draya pulled Tristan’s hand away suddenly and grabbed his shaft, pressing the tip against her entrance.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

Tristan could feel a sensation of warm wetness that drew his attention down to the point of contact. He felt his pulse quicken and his face heat up in anticipation for what would happen next.

“Are you ready? Do you still want to hold back? I’ll— I’ll stop if you say the word.”

Tristan didn’t respond right away, but put his hands around her slim waist. Unlike the fur on her legs or arms, the fur on Draya’s stomach was much shorter and incredibly soft to the touch. Tristan could feel her heavy breathing, a sign that she was just as anxious as he was about what they were about to do together. Any downward force he put against her pressed her warm slit further onto him; a small sampling of what awaited fully penetrating her.

Draya pushed away slightly from his grasp, looking expectantly for her answer.

“I’m ready,” he nodded. “I don’t want to be embarrassed by what I want anymore. Besides, I don’t think I could hold back if I wanted to.”

“Me either,” she grinned slyly. “I was bluffing.”

Tristan held onto her hips as she slowly sunk down onto him, the tight folds of her body enveloping everything he could give her. Once she finally took him entirely inside of herself, Draya shuddered at the connection. She shifted in place on Tristan’s lap, trying to better accommodate her mate. Her movements brushed the thick fur around her groin against Tristan’s, sending shivers up his spine as well.

“O-Oh yeah,” Draya said. “I almost forgot.” She grabbed the sides of Tristan’s face and leaned in close, “Close your eyes.”

Tristan did as he was told and was treated to another of Draya’s passionate kisses, which he gave back in full. He focused on the feeling of everything Draya was giving to him, physically and emotionally. When she broke the kiss suddenly, he opened his eyes to a brand-new sight. Their surroundings had changed into that of a wide open field. A warm, gentle breeze blew through the air, pushing white puffy clouds across the sky. In this made-up world, it was brightly lit but there was no sun to blind the two that lay on the grass.

“There.” Draya rocked back and forth against Tristan, slowly working up to thrusting up and down on him. “Here, no one will bother us. They can’t—” she moaned, her breath becoming more labored with each bounce, “—hear us, or see us. It’s just you and me. Together.”

Tristan gripped her hips tighter, meeting her thrusts with his own, groaning in time to her moans.

“It’s perfect, Draya.” The human leaned up and kissed the panting Zoroark as their movements continued to quicken in pace. “I…”

“What? Getting close?”

“Not that,” he shook his head. “I love you.”

Draya’s eyes widened in surprise, her breath caught in her chest. “Y-You better!”

The Illusion Pokémon grabbed her trainer’s face and kissed him hard, picking up the pace of her movements. Draya’s downward thrusts soon became irregular until she slammed herself down on him with all of her strength, her inner walls clenching tightly as she hit her climax. She broke the kiss as she rode her orgasm out, letting out a delighted squeal as she dug her claws into Tristan’s shoulders tight enough to leave red scratches in their wake.

Tristan tried to last as long as he could, but with his Pokémon writhing in pleasure on top of him, he could only offer up a few more thrusts while Draya grinded herself against him. He grabbed her rear and buried his face in the thick fur of Draya’s chest, holding onto her tightly as he came inside.

They laid in the false world Draya had conjured up for the two of them for some time. The sky began to darken and transition into a dim twilight, complete with a pale moon rising high into the fake sky.

“So,” Draya spoke up after catching her breath. She laid on top of her human lover, “Feel any better?”

“Are you kidding?” Tristan asked. He stroked Draya’s back with one arm and held her close with the other. “I feel exhausted.”

She chuckled, “Not what I meant, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course I feel better,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You helped me forget everything on my mind for a little bit. Thank you, Draya.”

“Anytime. Do you need to ‘forget’ again?” Draya grinned.

“Ask me in the morning,” Tristan smiled back. “I’m seriously tired.”

“Then relax,” his Zoroark said, cradling his head in her arms. “I’ll take care of you.”

Outside of Draya’s illusion, the Unova region and the rest of the world were both still reeling from the night’s events in Nimbasa City’s Big Stadium.

Inside, however, two lovers cast aside their worries and fears for a single night of peace, both knowing that soon one would be carrying the weight of the nation on their shoulders.

—————

To Be Continued…

—————


End file.
